Look You Assholes

Look you assholes. I'm making the playoffs. I don't know what any of you are thinking in trying to keep me out of the playoffs. Our fantasy football playoff bracket is like a second home to me. Or really, more like a first home, because I don't technically have a home right now.

I didn't want it to come to this. I really didn't. But as I sit here in my oversized red velvet chair, stroking the silky fur of my black cat, and staring into a raging fire only one thought comes to mind: One way or the other, I'll be in the playoffs.

Take that however you want. Maybe it's a threat. Maybe not.

I know what you are thinking too. (You can't be as successful in fantasy football as I have been without knowing what your opponents are thinking on a daily basis.) Turner is out for four to six weeks. Carolina refuses to run the ball with regularity and Delhomme is intercepted on one of five throws. Hester, Housh, and Evans refuse to consistently produce yardage and hate the endzones. And Roy Williams should be euthanized.

But come hell or high water (anyone know what this means) I will be playing for the championship. Get your guns ready, soldier up, and bring it. Because I've brought it in the past, and I'll continue to bring it for the next three weeks. It's going to be a bloodbath of epic proportions.