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The Diary of a Fantasy Virgin – Week 10

In the soap opera that is the Fantasy Virgin.   The tale of the tape can go in this order.   Star RB is out.   Past star RB is in.   The Dynamic duo comes through and a we Shock-ey the monkey.   Let’s begin with my Johnson Rod…errr RB.

What Is Wrong With My Johnson Rod?

A wonderful Seinfeld has a scene where Jerry is complaining about his car to George.

  Specifically over how it just costs so much money to get it fixed and the parts are inexplicable words.

  In the end it always costs a cool g ($1000 for those in Libbysville).

  George adds on to this scene that every time he brings his car in for something simple, there seems to be an issue with the Johnson rod.

  Johnson is an affable term for strut or ball joint or brake assembly that has obviously given way.

  But to George all of it is a Johnson rod and it is going to cost a g.

  So why are we here at this point?

  Larry Johnson hurt his ankle and he is out.

  Luckily I picked up a Mr. P. Holmes as insurance the week before.

  But rust is tough and I am sure Naval jelly will not solve this situation so what to do next?

  Rely on the Dynamic Duo.

A Dynamic Duo

There have been dynamic duos in football.

  You have Bradshaw and Stallworth.

  You have Bradshawn and Swan.

  You have

Montana and Rice.

  Now we have Romo and T.O. Or Romo and Owens.

  You can actually glom the two together and get a great pasta named RomOwens or maybe some weird combination of

Rome and Samoans.

  But anyhow, as T. Romo and T. O. go, so shall I.

  It is a wicked combination when it works but it is only good for 50 – 60 points.

  Where am I getting the rest of the scratch to pay the bills?

  That is the last act of this drama.

  Shock-ey the Monkey tonight.

Schock-ey The Monkey Tonight

Mr. J. Schockey went crazy all around the town on Sunday.

  It was Schockey’s world Giants fans.

  You were just living in it.

  His 30 fantasy points more than doubled any previous outing this year.

  They were a major contributor to the success of my team this week and his performance bodes well for the rest of the season.

  It is week 10 and I am 6-4 and that is good enough for a tie with the best record in our league.

  Next week, I may just have to write a little bit about Fantasy Football parity again.

  What will the diary bring this week?

  How about some holiday spirit for everyone out there?

Dear Diary

I know I should not be judging people.

  But if you eat near me in a restaurant, complain about everything, and weigh more than 300 lbs. you just may get mentioned in this article.

  So please be a responsible adult or else you may end up appearing in my article.

  Has this ever happened to you?

This evening, my lovely wife and I took in a very nice restaurant on a lake in the middle of

Ct.

  We were having a great time and it was a lovely evening until the couple from hell came in.

  I am a good Catholic boy so it pains me to swear.

They ordered Kettel One martinis and sent the glasses back because they were dirty.

  They ordered Prime Rib and asked it to be delivered in 15 minutes as rare as it could be (“rarer than rare” was their precise request).

  When it was delivered in 15 minutes they sent it back because it was too early. When the server delivered their meals later, upon their requested time, he sent it back again, because apparently, the cow wasn’t bloody and red enough. Why was I paying attention to these people you say?

Well, they spoke so loudly, it was hard not to.

  They spoke non-stop, throughout our entire meal and they were still complaining when we left, about how the restaurant would not make it in Manhattan saying things like …”this is what we get for giving a local place a try” and “this is what happens in a small town.”

  It was awful.

  Our meal was exactly what we ordered, it was properly done, and the wait staff was great – the complete opposite of their experience…which should question whose reality and expectations are valid. If you want a Manhattanesque meal, go to

Manhattan. It’s still there as far as I know.

But to these people, nothing was going right for them. The highlight for us was that their Prime Rib meal was the largest slab of cow on a plate I have ever seen and in-between forkfuls of raw chunks dropped into their gullet, they made chortling and wheezing sounds that sounded like they were about to die. And in the spirit of Dickens “they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.”

The moral of the story is that if you become one of these people or you are one of these people, you are a real pain in the ass to all the other people in this world trying to have a nice quiet meal with their loved one. Needless to say, despite their complaints, the couple somehow continued to consume their beef as we left. It couldn’t have been that bad then, right?

So dear fat couple next to us, I have a message for you.

  No one wants to hear your rant about

Manhattan, Block Island, the

Hamptons, or

Nantucket.

  Shut your face and leave or just shut your cakehole. It is the holiday season and we need everyone to get along, not get above it all.

Peace.

 

 Master D.

Tim can now be reached at

tdavoll@fantasysharks.com and welcomes your opinions on the Diary of a Fantasy Virgin Articles.

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