From the Desk of your new Commissioner

Neither of us can believe Blake paid on time! 

Dear Cartilage Inhalers (cock vacuums),

     As we embark on our 4th season together, I would like to point out some positives.

1) I am the Boss

2) Everyone paid their dues on time, even Blake. So we have to find something else to make fun of him for.

3) Blake and Craig accepted their name changes and new logos with dignity (although I was overruled on naming Craigs team "The Douchebaguettes")


Now let us go over some housekeeping shit:

Name Changes -- the Sandusky Disciples are now the Muff Busters, the Butt Pirates are now the Taint Ticklers, the Claymakers are now the Tamponic Knights, and the Affirmative Blacktion is now the Pacific Rim Jobs

Keepers -- Did you enjoy having them for the past two seasons?  Guess what, never again.  Every year we are going to completely re-draft.  This will keep all of us on an equal playing field.  Besides, that is way more fun anyway.

The Blog -- As of right now, I have no idea what is going to happen with it.  I will write when I can, but I am running this league as well as another one.  Add that to my wife going to grad school, being a staff writer for two baseball blogs, plus all of the other grown-up shit I have to tend too...well, it does not look good for weekly re-caps this year.  Sweens will also be doing what he can, but it may be tough this year, so get the sand out of your vaginas and deal.

The Trophy -- Thanks to Nic thinking he lost the original trophy, the other Nick bought us a Ryan Leaf autographed mini-helmet and broke Amazon for like 4 hours.  Well then Nic found the action figure...so from what I understand, Charlie is going to mount them together and it is going to be one giant boner of a trophy.  And for a fun piece of trophy history...the mini-helmet arrived wrapped in toilet paper, only further cementing what a piece of shit Ryan Leaf is.

Second in Command - Should anything happen to me, the league will be run by my first born son...Wally.  If he is then fictionally assasinated, then Charlie would be in charge again.  If he decides to step down from his Pappal duties, then Sweeney is in charge.  If Sweeney catches yellow fever while fording the river, Tyson is in charge.  Should Tyson lose his head in a tragic rugby accident, Nick is in charge.  If Nick says, "Fuck this shit!", my Dad is in charge.  After that...I don't give a horses ass.  Let's just say...Dan, Davy, Blake, and Craig is last.  Sorry Craig...but a cruise ship is not the same as a fantasy football league. 

In closing, I am glad that everyone is back this year and I hope that we have many more.  If you have any questions or concerns, I want you to feel free to just leave me the fuck alone.  This is not a democracy anymore.  If you have a good idea, send me an e-mail.  Should I like it, I will steal it and claim it as my own...but at least something you want will come to pass.

One final thing, you bleached labial folds better do some trash talking this year.  Last year felt like I was playing fantasy football with a bunch of fucking queef sniffing, opera loving, missionary position only, Disney princesses'.  So hike up your tighty-whitey's and take some shots at each other.  Unless you want me to rename the league "Tea and Crumpets" next year and name all of your teams after Disney Princesses...although the Rochester Sleeping Beauties does have a nice ring to it.

Dictated, not written.

Your Fucking Amazing Over Lord,

Lou Diamond Phillips Olsen