Ughhhhh, is it the playoffs yet? Why does this year seem to be taking longer than ever before? Maybe it’s because I’m in only free leagues this year and I feel like I’m having my back blown out by my boy, Mandingo (google him, NSFW), in each and every one of them. I was graciously offered the opportunity to relinquish my fantasy baseball posts in order to give 100 percent of my focus on the football side of things as we are ramping up for America’s new favorite pastime. I thought to myself, “Beddict, you have a life; chickens to feed, male thong ads to shoot, and an endless supply of women to satisfy, therefore none could truly blame you for focusing all your efforts into football. It’s not your fault Bryce Harper is a tool and Ryne Sandberg is the worst manager in baseball. MOST of your other advice has worked out splendidly. You’ve done enough…..” FEAR NOT, my friends, for the day I walk away from writing for baseball is the day Grey and Rudy show up at my immaculate abode, Chinese finger trap my bottom b*tch, film it, stomp me out afterward, and take back my framed Razzball certificate of employment. I know for a fact that I have at least TWO readers who enjoy these posts and I absolutely refuse to let them down as Nicolas Cage has his fans with his seemingly endless supply of duds. Yes, these next few weeks shall be permeated with more Beddict than ever before, covering both baseball and football, and that, my friends, is what’s known as a “Tehol Twofer.” That term is ordinarily reserved for when I sexually pulverize two women, back to back, but I believe this was newsworthy enough to borrow the term, though I’m borrowing it from myself, so I suppose it doesn’t matter. ANYWAY, let’s hop right in. I missed some action due to the fact I was reeling in Tyee’s up in Canada, but per usual, I’ll be giving it 110 percent. This is, Disgrace/Delight.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

“Pain heals, chicks dig scars, glory lasts forever.”

With that being said, it’s officially go time! Time to make that valiant push into the playoffs, time for me, Tehol Beddict, to assist you however possible in turning your dreams into reality. There’s no time to waste so let’s swan dive right into this thang. This is, Disgrace/Delight!

Note: Are you brave enough to battle not just my fantasy football wit, but my fantasy football loins… powered by the Elder Gods? Take me on in our fantasy football RCL’s for special prizes!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

I put a ring on every finger but the rats still askin

Cause there’s one on all of mine, I’m the sportswriter Phil Jackson

Greetings! Tis I, Beddict AKA Fantasy Soldier of Fortune AKA Tha Purple Panty Dropper AKA The Punch Line King AKA Beddict Shmurda AKA Zeus tha God-Body AKA Tha Chicken Handla, and to quote Tupac Shakur,”You ain’t never had a friend like me.” “Why is that?”, you so curiously ask yourself. Well it’s quite simple, really– Do you have any friends who will literally take hours out of their day to speak to you about your endless fantasy sports conundrums, as well as any and all life problems? Did your best friend put your soulmate in a Boston Crab and give her the piping she’d always dreamed of? Well, Dr. Beddict can assist in walking you off the ledge. Did you walk in on your sweet mother receiving back shots from the mailman with a back so hairy that at first glance you believed mom was being mauled by a bear? Again, Tehol the comforter at your service. I’m here for you, playaz and playettes, so never hesitate, for he/she who hesitates, masturbates…or something like that.

I know many of you expected me to write about my big Microsoft commercial that I shot all Sunday night with Russell Wilson, Doug Baldwin and Malcolm Smith, but I signed a contract stating that I’m not allowed to mention it anywhere or I won’t BE PAID!! Being that Tehol B. is my stage name, they may have a hard time proving in court, but let’s not push the envelope shall we?! I will say that I did catch some balls from Elder God Blessed, Russell Wilson, and that alone was worth the 15 hours on set. Yep, scratch that one off the bucket list. Anyway, we’ll save the remainder of this gem for another week. Let’s move on to bright spots and last but not least, the boners, from this past week. This is Disgrace/Delight.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! Tis I, the one and only Tehol Beddict, AKA Beddict Shmurda, here to put you on game and put lames to shame, but first let me show you how to do my dance. It’s been a rough week for your old pal, Tehol, as I’ve been house hunting, searching Seattle in it’s entirety for the perfect Beddict Mansion. I located what I believed to be my dream house, only to have my offer rejected for another in the wee hours of the night, sending me into the type of violent rage that would even make Mel Gibson cringe. The fury soon morphed into sorrow, as I curled up a$$ naked on the floor, cradling my beloved chicken, Beatrice, bawling my eyes out while screaming insults at the Elder Gods for all to witness. I tell you this, not so you’ll empathize with me, but so you’ll know that if some of my predictions end up being a tad off, it’s because the Elders are clearly continuing their massive and almost unbearable onslaught of punishment against me. This may sound as if I’m already making excuses, but if you knew the Elder Gods at the depths at which I do, you’d know never to curse them, let alone curse them within earshot of other mortals.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

My name is Tehol Beddict, I’m a sexaholic (Hi Tehol)
I have a disease and they don’t know what to call it
Better empty out your leaguesafe funds ’cause I’m coming up quick to strip your cash
Joined your fantasy league just to come and whip your ass

Greetings! Welcome to another, hopefully exciting edition of Disgrace/Delight. I’m your host, Tehol B., and I’ll be trying my mightiest to fulfill your fantasies (baseball that is) in mentioning the players I feel have either disgraced themselves, their families, and their organizations or those of whom deserve feet and rings kissed, as well as animal sacrifices done so in their name. I don’t have time to dilly dally, for I have to shoot a commercial Thursday morning and Brother Beddict needs his beauty sleep. For optimum enjoyment (yours and mine), I should probably begin these memorable pieces of literature earlier then the day before they need to be submitted. That way, Beddict can truly be 100 percent balls deep, and that’s really what we all want, right?!  I didn’t choose this lifestyle, the lifestyle chose me. Let this quest beginith.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

 The moment I wake up
Before I put on my makeup
I say a little prayer for you
While combing my hair, now
And wonder what thong to wear, now
I say a little prayer for you

Forever, forever, Domonic, you’ll stay in my heart
And I will love you
Forever, and ever, we never will part
Oh, how I’ll love you
Together, together, that’s how it must be
To live without you
Would only mean heartbreak for me

Greetings!!! Tis I, Beddict the blessed, back up in that a** like a boomerang, and I’m not talkin Eddie Murphy. You know the thrown tool, typically constructed as a flat aerofoil, that is designed to spin about an axis perpendicular to the direction of its flight? We’re already off-track here! It’s been a rough couple weeks for your dear, dear, dear, most dearest friend Beddict, for not only has he been given the cold shoulder by Razzball Radio/TV, but he’s been c*ckblocked from writing for basketball next season. I’ll be making a televised announcement on where I’m taking my talents this Friday and “The Decision” may shock you. [Jay's Note: Uh, Football Razzball?] Guru is hosting, it and will be naked. You won’t notice, for his body is 100 percent covered in tattoos. Anyway, you’re not here to listen to my whine and moan, you’re here for Disgrace/Delight!! Let’s bang this out like a meth’d out stripper!

Bryce HarperTha God is back!!! If you’re new to Beddict(me) then there’s a chance you missed THIS outstanding column from the pre-season. Read it and weep, for Bryce is our savior. Praise him.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Boy let me show ya how to make that trade
How to spend that money how to win your league and get paid
Girl let me show how to hit that wire quick
How to get that d!ck, don’t give back lip
Go head do what you do make it work for ya!

Beddict  don’t play when it comes to money
I guess that’s why I’m okay when it comes to money

Hit Jay on the hip Guru on the celly
Rudy call Grey, I get ‘em for the R.Kelly
That’s seventeen a chicken, you know Beddict tha bird man
Citizens Bank Park, Philadelphia. I know the Byrd gang

Please, blog, may I have some more?

It’s been said you give away a piece of your soul every time you are photographed. That explains a great deal about me, does it not? Yes, it’s true, being a mankini model has soul f*cked me in ways you people, with your regular jobs, would never begin to understand. It has opened my eyes to great deal of topics that I literally have no choice but to write about (my therapist demands it), and Razzball.com is my outlet. Oh I suppose I could write about these other topics in a locked diary, or even start a blog that nobody reads, and I forget about in a few weeks (like half the female population I know) but truth be told, I’m almost too lazy to write one piece a week, let alone multiple, so basically I need to get out everything that’s on my mind in my disgrace/delight column. Why do I bring this up? Only because there’s a select group of you don’t want to read anything that doesn’t pertain specifically to baseball, or even more specifically, fantasy baseball. Well congrats guys and gals! Cuz that’s all we’re talking about this week. You did it!!! Without your hate, I would be unable to completely eradicate my soul, which is necessary for me to flourish spiritually. I’ve said enough, but enjoy this for it twill happen not happen again, I assure you.

P.S. I miss the hateful commentary that used to frequent this column. Not having it has begun to make me softer than a bloated up carcass someone dropped in a lake. Don’t get it twisted though; Beddict can still take it 0-100, REAL QUICK, so if you want to do battle, sho nuff you better come correct. Let’s get down to it. This is Disgrace/Delight!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

What up blood! What up cuz! What up Gaaaaangstas (Turn this up)!!!  They say I walk around like I got an ‘S’ on my chest. Nah, that’s a keyboard and a cashmere sweater vest on my chest. Greetings! Tis I, Tehol Beddict, internet-thug extraordinaire, returning to you from a much needed creative sabbatical. I can’t truly explain my absence last week. Yes, I was experiencing the kind of migraine headaches I imagine  Christian Slater receiving when he thinks about his career path, for a couple days, but there was something more, something deeper. The creative juices simply weren’t flowing, as I felt like Macaulay Culkin after he made Getting Even With Dad. Where do I go from here? Have I peaked? Do I have anything left to give this world? Has Domonic Brown soul f*cked me to the point there’s nothing left of me but a dried up, useless corpse? My chicken, the normally loving and playful Beatrice, that you see pictured, wouldn’t even look me in eye! The Elder Gods, whom have guided me to countless fantasy championships, had seemingly abandoned me. As I laid naked, curled up in a ball on my polar bear rug, bawling my eyes out, all seemed lost.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Game-of-Thrones-Season-4-Episode-7-Tyrion-Bronn

“I’d be a bloody fool if he didn’t frighten me. He’s freakish big and freakish strong. And quicker than you’d expect for a man of that size.”

Edwin Encarnacion is known for his size, bat speed, and his Herculean power. Sir Edwin is tall (he is 6’2″, so I guess not that tall). He possesses massive shoulders and arms thick as the trunk of small trees. Edwin weighs over twenty stone (230 lbs), practically all of it muscle, making him near in-humanly strong. Encarnacion’s strength allows him to wield a bat so humongous, it would make Greg Oden’s wang look like a thumb tack, giving him enormous reach, making him all the more lethal with his eagle-eye vision. Such is the power of Sir Edwin’s strength, that he has been known to literally obliterate baseballs upon contact with just a single blow.

Please, blog, may I have some more?