Archive for the ‘Week 5’ Category

Bugs 35 Krons 32

The Krons and Bugs each brought their own bag of mexican food down to the cliffs of LaHoya, took out every piece needed for a Brother on Brother Jam session, and started in with the music. The Seals who had long since vacated the beach fronts got word to each other that the Lea Boys were having a Ho down, and down they came. Soon, the creatures from the Diego zoo picked the locks to their cages and got a cliffside seat for the pain. Clinton Portis came dressed a as a Peacock and was ready to take home some Bacon, but the Bugs are vegetarians, so they took the meat from little brother’s hands and said No. Old Man Kurt turned to Cut Master and Kurt stepped up to the turkey shoot and shot his brother down. Peyton turned to Jesus and asked for a miracle, but Kurt is a far better Christian, and the lord saw fit to honor the man who does not do commercials. Jeff Reed added some pain and the Bugs pulled off a MUST win for the franchise and took sole possession of 1st place in the league. “Oh Krony Boy, the Pipes are calling calling for you.”

Bug Child: Mr. Bug, we beat down the one who looks like you but is not you!

Mr. Bug: That is because he is not me.

Bug Child: I just said that.

Mr. Bug: Are you talking back to me?

Bug Child: No I am not.

Mr. Bug: No you are not!


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Rooks 38 X 28

WhatdidItella? The Rooks are looking like destiny this year with Big Ben and my main man Tim Hightower! Fughetaboutit! We love it Rooks, you’re the feel good story of the year. X, well, Jerry is just making me feel good because it seems like he got a little too into himself and his magic mirror. Jerry, you broke Tom Brady and now you are broke, rolling around the streets with Eli Manning and a brown paper bag asking everyone to believe that there is a bottle of Dom undeneath when really it’s a half used day old can of Colt 45. Ain’t going to hurt NOBODY with that one. The Rooks rode a comeback track led by the CunductA once again and savored the final moments of a Sunday night by hoisting another Stripper Pole up above the castle wallls. These are fantastic celebrations to watch and they might be better to be a part of. How is Michael Turner reacting to being a break out back on a Bust Bound team Jerry? Self Wash my friend, self wash. Rooks, keep going and choose the path you are choosing brother, the belt is waiting for you.

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Ubes 32 ‘Lics 32

They were done for, right? The ‘Lics were facing an angry Uberman team that does not like to drop two in a row. The Wolf Dog’s coat was fading from it’s summer glow and headed for a soup kitchen in the heart of Korea Town. No! The Dogs fought hard and looked into the eyes of the Ubermen who once again spent another Sunday Night yelling at things that were not real in hopes the football gods would steer their receiver to catch the damn ball. Did not happen. A tie. The second of the week – a first in Fantasy Football history. In a series that defies the odds, the outcome defied the math as well. Matt Forte is asking management to please keep him on the field, but the Ubes don’t like Rookies to carry to heavy a load. We shall see. The ‘Lics, they hold off the knife and hope this turns their season turns around as the season turns. The Ubes stay in the pack. Everything happened in this game in a series that is turning into a true rivalry game amongst a series of bloody truths that are starting to exist in this league. Who likes a tie? The one who holds off death, not the one who was trying to inflict it. What a league this is in ’08 my people. What a show these two put on.

Wolf Dog German treats close

you ate better than the bunker

Beware of signs. crawl

The Ubermen seem to have their scouts in the Pac 10, but keep loosing QBs. Are they worried about Maid Marion Loosing the cover page in Dallas?

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Pals 27 Riders 27

12 points down, the Riders sat on the edge of the Bronx and addressed their troops like he was Sirus at the start of The Warriors. “Riders, we must drive a steak into the heart of Pal and take victory from them on their opening Night!” Glass bottles rained down from the Projects above, but the Riders marched their Saints in and got enough to walk out with a tie. The Pal Pen was silent, though not disturbed, as both factions broke out whatever bottles they had and sang unversal songs deep into the New York Night. The Crisp air produced NFL Films type of Breath Fog coming from the lips of the exhausted teams, but both walked away without a loss, and in this season of obvious eveness accross the league, that was enough, even though, in the corner of every watchful eye, it most certainly was not. The Riders stay above the pack and have to feel lucky, as it was the Pals who left 27 points on the bench and was left, eventually, alone in Gotham to think about what might have been but never will be again. The Riders fire up the cycles and head back cross country eating slow and driving fast. The Road ahead is in front of you Riders, where will you drive?

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