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    The agony of defeat

    December 11, 2006

    In a cruel twist of fate, I found myself up against my husband in the first round of Fantasy Football playoffs.  I have been kicking ass and taking names and frankly was sure I was going to leave him in my dust.  I wasn’t overjoyed about this, since, as you know from prior posts, my husband has had a rough go on the Fantasy Football front.

    In a moment of weakness, I asked him which of my quarterbacks to play.

    D:  What does Fantistics say?
    K:  To play Vick.  It has Brees so far down the line that he couldn’t even find his own name.  But you know, I got screwed the last time I followed a Fantistics recommendation.
    D:  Do what you want.

    With that, I played Vick.  Who got me a whopping 6.75 points.  With 1 minute, 35 seconds to go in tonight’s game, Brees has 49.1 points.  I would have beat my husband by 40 points.  Now (unless his kicker doesn’t show up to tomorrow night’s game), I am going to be competing for 7th place next week.

    I hope he enjoys the Thrill of Victory.  Oh how the mighty have fallen. 

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    How fantasy football will help you go straight to hell

    September 28, 2006

    This morning I got a call from my BIL Jorgie.

    J:  Krissy, I just wanted to know.  If the first thing I thought of when I heard that Terrell Owens tried to kill himself was “maybe now I can beat Katie this week,” is that bad?  I mean, I think I am going to hell for that one.
    K:  Jorge, I’ll be sitting right next to you at the pinochle table in hell because when I heard that he tried to commit suicide, I thought “good God, he was out of the news for a whole 3 days because his team didn’t play this weekend so he decided to kill himself to get back in the news.  Drama queen. “
    J:  We are so going to hell.

    I would like to thank T.O.’s publicist for giving me the best laugh of the day.  I believe that when questioned about the possibility of T.O. being depressed, she replied that he has 25 million reasons not to be depressed.

    Thank God there is someone in the world who realizes that lots of money equates to happiness. 

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    One of the many ways fantasy football is going to kill me

    September 25, 2006

    I woke up this morning to news reports that most of my fantasy football players have ailments.  A bum hamstring here, a bad shoulder there, and even a toe.  Not described as a toe injury, just a toe.  I’d like to think that he has 10 of them, but who knows.  At the rate I’m going, this team of mine is going to need that pool the old people found in Cocoon that made them young again. 

    The competition is heating up and I’m happy to say that we are still conversing here at Chateau Cookie.  Apparently things are not going so well at my sister’s house.  I looked at her lineup to find she had drafted a tight end today that only yielded her one measly point.  Thinking I was being funny, I sent her a little online smack talk. 

    My phone rang just moments later.  Apparently she had gone on a drafting spree and had only asked for her husband’s advice on one player–the crappy one.  This was after he told her to pick somebody up last week and then beat her to it.  The thing is, everyone knows he is out to win.  She is threatening divorce.  Her husband, because karma is a bitch, is going to get his ass handed to him this very minute by Cath.  Woohoo!! 

    My husband, on the other hand, is getting a little cagey.  Until now we have been “helping” each other.  We were having a discussion about wide receivers tonight and suddenly he told me that he wasn’t going to tell me who he was picking up.  I know we are going to play each other in two weeks but what the hell is up with that?  Sore losers, these men….

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