Moral Of The Story

I had a fantasy football draft tonight.  It was in a league that my wife put together.  I drafted 7th, she got the 4th spot.  I think she drafted a pretty good team, maybe even better than mine.  I fact advised her a tiny bit on draft philosophy and possibilities.  Not that she didn’t know what she was doing.  She does, she is the Commish in this league after all.

She got Ray Rice with the 4 pick on my say so, and stole Ahmad Bradshaw 3 spots before I was going to get him.  She got Vincent Jackson who fell in the draft further than he should have, and got the Baltimore D to begin a run on defenses in the 7th round.

I didn’t do too bad myself.  Got Rashard Mendenhall, Drew Brees, and Peyton Hillis in the 1st three rounds.  Did some bargain basement WR shopping in the late rounds, and got Lance Moore,  Hines Ward, and Plaxico Burress as extras.

Her mister irrelevant, her last pick, Saints #4 WR option Robert Meachem.  Mine?  Jets 3rd down RB LaDainian Tomlinson.   We both drafted QB’s in the 2nd and 9th rounds, she got Brady and Matt Ryan, I got Brees and Eli Manning.

And we play each other week 1.

Moral of the story:  Be careful who you advise, they may be smarter than you.


My hands are sore.  I have blisters on my palms from doing some work around and about.  No worries really, that is what painkillers are for.  My fault really, I could not find my industrial strength work gloves when I was working, and had to use a screwdriver to put a few 2 x 4’s together (the power drill had no power.)  Call it 24 – 4 inch wood screws, by hand.  The skin started to turn and twist free on my hands fairly early on.  I was asked if maybe I wanted to use a hammer and nails instead, I said no, don’t spend the money, I can do this.

And I did.  The spending of money was something I would never ask anyone to do, so that answer,  since that “no” would have been the answer regardless, would not have changed the outcome of the job (or my blisters) one bit.  The important point is the work got done.  I think I actually enjoyed getting the job done despite my hands trying to fall apart on me.  Got a job done that looked initially like I would not be able to finish. Pain was a minor obstacle.

Not an issue really.  I state all that just to make the statement. I was still able to clean up the kitchen with my wife today, I was able to do a few hundred knuckle push-ups, I was still able to make pizza for dinner.  Can’t do chin-ups quite yet.  One more day, maybe.  The blisters were my own damn fault, and the blisters aren’t that bad, if I can do all that I can do.

Moral of the story: Don’t bitch, it ain’t right.


That’s it from here, America.  G’night.


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