Archive for the ‘Week 8’ Category

Krons 44 Pals 38

Both teams sat down at the breakfast table, said their prayers, then slowly started sipping their O.J. out of Flintstones glasses. After some polite biscuit munches, it turned into a full fledged Stand By Me Pie eating contest that lasted until the 3rd Quarter of Monday Night, where Lendel White had no trouble eating the piece that would send the Krons skipping into their Victory Tennessee Waltz – and then he ate some more! After a series of crushing defeats, the Krons Grabbed the Pals by the tail and told them that there was no way the Pony Express was going to bust out ahead of the pack. Steve Smith secured his spot on the Kron’s Hall of Fame wall while Clinton Portis broke himself getting the Krons close. The Pals ran out of magic with their backfield and may have exposed themselves as Bulls who might run out of gas come the playoff push. We shall see if they bounce back from this one – Reports from the Schwartz East Coast Roof Top Pigeon Coop spotted the Pals Coaching staff talking to the lamp posts that didn’t seem to burn so bright in the Harlem Night. Get rid of the Raider Pal – you won’t win with the stench. The Krons walk off with a victory and feel good about looking in the mirror. Lendel White, you are no longer a dimer, that much is for sure. That was a franchise defining win Krons.


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Rooks 32 ‘Lics 26

…and now, with our bonus time, we’ll be switching you over to coverage of the Texans and Dolphins – Wait, no, it’s the Rooks and the ‘Lics.  My God. The Rooks did just enough to win and ensure that the Schwartz’ early call of gold for the Rooks is still in play. We’re not sure the Poles were greased up for this one, but there were some disturbing pictures of bestiality coming from leaks inside the castle walls. The Wolf dog, after their trip into the darkness, was walking extra slow and with a slight limp – I guess those women like Strap-ons and hairy behind. What is happening out there? Anyway, Tim Hightower is the new breed of Fantasy back that only scores TDs, but it was enough as the Ohio Playas came through with a must win and stayed with the pack. Falling behind, with a quiet whimper, there does not appear to be a run left in the Wolf Dog this year, unless you count the tear in the stocking from spending too much time in whatever position their opponent seems fit. Is the Schwartz getting salty? Hell yes, It’s the end of October and real fantasy is being played out, except for the ‘Lics, who are just getting played.

Hit it Stevie!


Wolf Dog bitter cold die

paws full of sores can’t walk straight

go home. no home. knife.

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Ubermen 25 X 16

This was an ugly game, and we have a feeling that the Ubermen wanted it that way. The Ubes stepped out of their tanks and dug in to a trench war with an X team that had not enough bullets to fight the Ubes and avoid the ever approaching Knife that seems destined to send Jerry to the bargin bin bone-yard. The Ubes got what they needed out of their Dallas Clark and Rob of Monday Night, not to mention the every day grocery store special meat that Marshawn carries overseas with him from Buffalo every week. This was a narrow escape, but you need to win in every situation, and the Ubes know how to do what they have to do. For Jerry, well little guy, it appears that Julius Jones is not really the stuff that champions are made of. You should know, Jerry ol friend, you can’t be too cute when playing football. Are the Ubes Cute? Do you call rank with goat blood and self mutilation cute? Well, in some places you might, but not here. Not in November. Not when playing fantasy football, which it looks like they will be in Germany for a harsh, harsh winter. Those receivers are getting a little out of hand coach, but we know you understand the art of discipline, don’t you? Jerry, perhaps you can work off your dry cleaning bill by recycling the plastic wrap they put over the clothes. It’s over Glamor Boy.

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Bugs 30 Riders 26

The Riders are silent and deadly this season, though one never knows if they are that way towards themselves or to whom they are playing. The Bugs are frightening and solid all around, as somehow, Willis Magahee refuses to be injured and the call of the year, bringing up DeAngelo Williams, turns out to be the gold they needed to steal from the back Molar of the flapping Rider Pie Hole. The Bugs climb into first place with the victory and now look to solidify themselves as the favorite for the belt, perhaps setting up a Brotherly Championship Beach Party. For the Riders, it’s no party, no win and nothing but regret as longtime member of the Crew Larry Johnson seems intents on spitting on women instead of getting it done on the field. There are no excuses and not many tricks left in their bag of jacks that are now rusted with the sad drops of rider crying games. Riders, the Schwartz would say that next win is a must for you, or you might join the ‘Lics and Old Jerry as knife fodder for the rest of the league.

Mr. Bug: Ok Children, we’re going to the Zoo to see a man.

Bug Child: A man at the Zoo? Why is there a man at the Zoo?

Mr. Bug: It’s not a man, it’s the Riders. They are cleaning up the Elephant Shit because it is the only smell that matches how they have been playing as of late.

Bug Child: That’s a tough lesson to learn Mr. Bug, I sure am glad you are our teacher.

Mr. Bug: The teacher to all Bug child, the Teacher to all…

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