Greetings! Let us not dally and get straight to the point. Not since Dennis Quaid’s pathetic attempt at portraying the legendary Doc Holiday have I ever witnessed a more disgraceful performance. My good men (and good women), this fraud has pulled the wool over our eyes for far too long. His supporters make me want to upchuck my kale smoothies while I wither to my knees, my body quivering with disgust. His 1.60 WHIP (before last night’s bed shizzing) makes me long for Marco Estrada. His 4.88 ERA makes me lust after Chase Whitley. Seriously, RuPaul has higher testicular fortitude. I’d much rather be tied to a razor blade studded lawn chair, naked, with my mouth duck taped and forced to watch Paul Blart: Mall Cop, one AND two, in a cage with starved hyenas along with 50 rattlesnakes than watch Strasburg pitch. Now he’s injured, and if my animal instincts are proven correct, a DL stint is on the horizon. Don’t be shocked if it’s a season ender, which may be a good thing in the long run, like having your family’s rabid dog drowned after blood-lusting after a river otter when you didn’t have the heart to gun it down yourself. [Jay’s Note: Wait, what?] Say one thing for Stephen Strasburg, he’s a disappointment. It’s over.

I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

All hail his grace, Tehol of House Beddict and House Razzball, first of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Fantasy Baseball, and Protector of the Realm.

Greetings! Tis I, the Mad King, writing these opulent scriptures from my Irone throne, deep within the Razzball castle. Smokey, bring me some edibles before I have you whipped like a dog! J-FOH, if you would be so kind, please check the dungeons to see if Christian Slater is still drawing breath, for I was hoping to continue the flaying after having my breathtakingly hot playthings hand feed my an extravagant meal of quail eggs and boar testicles. Slaters’ being scolded for not producing anything of quality since the criminally underrated Hard Rain! RALPH! Unhand my betrothed before I do you like Reek, you scoundrel! I gave five of my illegitimate children as hostage along with five million in jewels that I stole from Rudy, Warden of the North, for that flawless virgin. You can have next though! Jay, do I ask (command) too much of you in expecting that these scrolls be transferred to Wordpress, so that followers of house Razzball may read the gospel? [Jay’s Note: Sorta…] I know that taking over for Littlefinger hasn’t been easy on you. It must be difficult to guzzle red wine all day, flirting with the thousands of beauties of your brothels. Grey, Lord of Light, I only ask that you continue to watch over us all, sending your fire priests, Sky and Seth, to scorch every last remaining bone of these old God worshipping peasants. A NEW AGE IS UPON US!

If you’ve been here before, you know how I do it… every two weeks I’ll be mixing baseball and Game of Thrones. Interesting concept, eh? No? Swallow my Valyrian sword point then. And as always, spoilers ahead!

I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace/Delight, GOT style! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Have you ever danced with the devil in the pale moonlight? Have you ever wrestled an 25-foot albino crocodile with you bare hands? Have you ever had a starved mongoose released down the front of your trousers? Better yet, have you ever flung Taijuan Walker out on the mound for your fantasy baseball squadron in 2015? Yes, my friends, tis true. I’ve done each and every one of these things, the Elder Gods as my witnesses, and quite honestly, nothing gets my ticker a poundin like an automatic fire-arm (and my anxiety higher than a yacked out Lindsay Lohan), quite like Walker on the mound for my Seattle Mariners. 7.1 innings pitched with 14 earned runs on 15 hits and 6 walks? Sure, the young Jedi in training known as “Sky Walker” bounced back last night with 8 Ks and only 1 earned run, BUT, he gave up 4 free passes, so he was obviously still shakier than Tom Sizemore after a weekend bender. Honestly, I feel like I let you down… I praised this young buck, preaching that he was definitely all about that hog life when, thus far, he clearly has been less worthy than the deceased Joffrey Baratheon (Spoiler alert! Or was I supposed to say that before I wrote that he died?). From the bottom of my booming and Elder God-made pumping heart, I’d like to apologize with the upmost sincerity. I’d like to say he say he dominates from here on out, but you’ve got to be realistic about these things.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

All hail his Grace, Tehol of House Beddict and House Razzball, first of His Name, King of the Andals and the First Men, Lord of Fantasy Baseball, and Protector of the Realm. 

Thank you, thank you. I am honored to sit here before you now, typing away on this astonishingly torturous throne. Though it’s agonizing to ensconce my tantalizingly toned glutes upon this chair forged from the swords of the vanquished, I’d be deceiving you, loyal subjects of Razzball, if I was to inform you that it didn’t put the wenches into the kind of frenzy I’ve only witnessed after a group of aborigines I was adopted by for five memorable years, cut the throats of six dingo’s, and dropped their writhing corpses into the Tasman Sea. [Jay’s Note: What?]

Ah, where to begin… I was a orphan from my birth, in what would have been the 12th year of the reign of our last great and powerful Targaryen King, dumped in an empty stall in the Scribe’s Hearth, where acolytes practiced the art of letters for those who had the need. The course of my entire life was set in stone on that glorious day, when I was discovered by an acolyte who brought me to Archmaester Grey. Grey, who’s rod, mask, and immense c*ck collection were silver, looked upon my squalling grace and announced that I might actually prove of use one day. Grey told me I was destined to become the greatest man thong model in our world’s history, and then, after traveling the world, flexing my cheeks for money that was beyond my wildest dreams, and sleeping with countless D-list celebrities, I would return to the house of Razzball to put my finest talent to use: Mixing fantasy baseball with quotes from Game Of Thrones, otherwise known as the greatest show in the history of the universe. [Jay’s Note: Eh…] Many other websites write multiple posts on this show, but none have the background to answer all your questions. Any fool can watch the TV show and do an episode recap, but only a true legends read the entire series in two weeks, devouring the history of the GOT world like Kardashians do rapper “D”. If you haven’t read these fascinating stories, or at the very least, watched the show, fear not, for I won’t look down upon you like peasants. Though, I will pity you, for the plain and simple truth that you’re omitting the greatest story ever told from your lives, and it pains me deeply to see you go down this treacherous and lonely path. Spoiler alerts ahead…

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! The time has come! This is what we’ve all been so patiently waiting for! Yaaaaaaasssss, Bruce Jenner’s sex change is upon us!!! Rejoice! It’s also a cool time of the year because MLB is starting up again. I suppose that means we should get down on some mo fantasy baseball type shizzz. Are you ready? No, I said, ARE YOUR READY!?!? Okay, sweet.

I so desperately wanted to write a preseason piece on Domonic Brown, but I was notified that he received over 500 words in my outfielders post, making it a no go this week. Can you even imagine? That would be like some moron pathetically green lighting a sequel to Paul Blart: Mall Cop. Only my Domonic column would probably go on to win awards and Blart 2 would be about as entertaining as watching Rosie O’Donnell’s love box fart for two straight hours…..WHAT?!?!?!?!? THEY’RE MAKING A PAUL BLART SEQUEL!??! WHAT IS WRONG WITH THESE PEOPLE!?!?!? My generation got Home Alone and Radio Flyer. The children of today get Paul effing Blart? Kevin James should be ashamed of himself for this. It’s embarrassing enough piggybacking the falling star that is Adam Sandler into 90% of his movie roles, but this is beyond pathetic. Hey, at least his untalented brother will get another meaningless role. Laaaaaawd, make it stop.

Enough about Blart. I’m here to talk about closers. I am Tehol Beddict, and this is Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! I missed you like Jean-Claude Van Damme, Steven Seagal, Bruce Willis, John Cusack, and Christian Slater miss making films that actually hit theaters. HOWEVER, during our lengthy and sometimes painful separation, I was able to meditate a great deal on which direction my writing career should go. Okay, so I mostly just thought about whether or not I should shave my chest or not this summer, but I did spend a few seconds wondering how far we can take, Disgrace/Delight. Movies? Television? Books? Video Games? Porn? Music? Say one thing for Tehol Beddict, say he’s a lover of the arts… But you didn’t come here to discuss whether or not I should wax my chest (or are you?). You have come here, to, the greatest website ever created, to discuss the SP position for 2015, and I, Tehol Beddict, am here to force feed you a few of my thoughts on the subject. I must warn ye, the writing below is explosive, provocative and not for the closed minded. If this is you in a nutshell, I am going to request that you light some scented candles, run a hot bath, and hold downward dog for a good 25 minutes while only breathing through your nose. Ready? Good, good. Let’s hit it.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is, Disgrace/Delight! Take heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Versace’d up from my thong to my neck

Pootie tang with the belt game show some respect.

Greetings! I’m blessed to still be employed by Razzball, going at it like a horny jack rabbit, and it’s a beautiful week to be alive! Unless, of course, you live on the upper east coast, for that looks absolutely hellacious. May the Elder Gods bless you with dry firewood, hot toddies a plentiful, and a bounty of desperate hookers/gigolos working at half price.  We’ve finally arrived at the always intriguing OF position, and I for one am ecstatic! In fact, I haven’t been this titillated since Clint Eastwood took his shirt off in The Bridges of Madison County!  There’s no time to waste!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

I dont ef with none of y’all sites anyway

Your funeral could be any day

Ever since Domonic Brown said, “Beddict, let me play”

All these haters been in the way

I’m just doin what Grey and Rudy say

Putting out 1000 tweets a day

Greetings! I came extra hard-body with the intro today, for the fact that I can’t recall EVER being so keyed up for a fantasy baseball season. My game slipped last year and I’m not proud of it. One could say swinger clubs, mankini modeling across the globe, and building schools for the underprivileged took up most of my time, but say one thing for Tehol Beddict, he’s not one to rationalize subpar results. Much of my spare time has been spent making countless sacrifices to the Elder Gods in hopes of gaining their favor for the upcoming season. One of them (Draconus) came to me during a peyote induced hallucination this past weekend, telling me that I must take a vow of celibacy from spring training till the end of the regular season if I am to acquire their assistance in dominating ALL of my leagues. To say the decision was difficult would be the understatement of the millennium, but after speaking with my agent and numerous lovers on the subject, the answer became clearer than the Saran rap I use as a backup when I run out of dental dams. Yes, the only men and women I’ll be servicing this year are you, the readers. Prepare yourself, for we will be traveling to uncharted depths of fantasy baseball analysis as well as unearthing the true reasoning for the disgraceful fall-offs of Nicolas Cage, Stephen Dorff, and of course, Christian Slater.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is, Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings! I’m back, better than ever. I’m top of my game, even them country boys saying “Beddict, we feelin’ ya maaaaayne.” My previous week has been spent scouring the internet, attempting to penetrate the brains of each and every player-ranking “expert” on the planet. What I found out is this…I absolutely adore the shortstop position this year! Say one thing for Beddict, he’s a lover. I know, I know, they can’t all have great seasons. You’ve got to be realistic about these things. But still, I’m fairly high on 12-16 shortstops this season and it will more than likely be a position I wait on in the draft. We have much to discuss, so let’s jump right in.

I am Tehol Beddict and this is, Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Hey girls and boys….Did you miss me? I know I’ve been eeeextra naughty by not posting these past two weeks, but don’t worry, Sky already spanked me for it. It’s that time of year again: Valentines day…And mmmmmmm, is there anything on this earth more aphrodisiaciscal than fantasy baseball? Hard, smooth wood demolishing it’s target, over and over and over and over again. Balls smacking against that tight, sweet smelling, worn in pouch. Jockstraps…..errrr, let’s move on. I adore Valentines day!

I’ve received a bounty of extravagant V-day gifts over the years: a Burberry scarf from Grey, Daffodils from Sky, the Bill James collection from Rudy, Special K from J-FOH, gerbils from Richard Gere, a gasmask from Smokey, a microphone from Capozzi (or was that a butt plug?), a Padres onesie from Jay, some sweet Boston rap tunes from Lipshitz, every Nicolas Cage film ever made on laserdisc from Seth, shoot, even Jennifer gave me something once, but that’s just between her and I.

Each week, I will continue to give you some players at each position, I feel are underrated and some I know in the depths of my massive heart, will let us down more so than Emilio Estevez did with D3: The Mighty Ducks, and that my friends is tragic. I am Tehol Beddict, and this is, Disgrace/Delight! Take Heed!

Please, blog, may I have some more?
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