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?

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?

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?

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?

Go to a quiet, dark place and light a few candles (preferably scented). Cue up my theme musicNow close your eyes, listen to my intro in it’s entirety and visualize greatness. Then, and only then, may you open your curious eyes and continue on (make sure you go back and watch the video because it’s awesome). If you lack the heart of a champion, I strongly recommend you either 1) refrain from reading further, or in my opinion the better option 2) play my theme music on at full volume,on repeat, until you’ve built up the testicular fortitude to withstand any obstacle on your way to glory.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Am I original? Yeeeeeah.

Am I the only one? Yeeeeeeeah.

Beddict’s back, ALLRIGHT!!!!

Greetings Beddict lovers! Tis I, Tehol, here to assist you with squeaking into the playoffs and hopefully make you say “LOL, OMG” a few times throughout the post. Unless you’re a troglodyte you know that I’ve utterly shamed the other writers in The Razzball Writers’ League and because of that wondrous fact I don’t even need to pay attention to it anymore and even more of my focus can be put forth on you, oh beautiful readers. You already know that I’m the resident points league expert, (if you don’t know, now you know) but I play in all formats and believe in nothing but absolute domination. Ask Nick Capozzi. Oh you did? And he called me a D-bag? Well, there may be some truth in his words but obviously I’ve been called far worse in my lifetime of stripping, donkey shows and man-kini modeling, so that’s no skin off my sack.

Please, blog, may I have some more?

Greetings fellow fantasy geeks! Tis I, Tehol Beddict, here yet again to service you in ways you once thought irrealizable. I’m merely perpetuating my own genius by coming week after week with top quality, grade-A knowledge. I got’s to drop it on ya’ll, for not tot would be a terrible waste as it would die like a fart in the wind. At long last I’ve reawakened from my Vegas slumber as the elder gods were terribly unkind to me this trip. Of course, that is if you call doing mass quantities of snow with with a pack of bodacious strippers until the birds started chirping unkind. Beyond a doubt the sort of excursion that would make even the great Charlie Sheen jealous. Now let us get to the point of this post. I’m not here to write to you of perfectly formed beauties riding me like a rodeo (or am I), nor am I here to glorify hard core drug usage. What I’ve come here to do today, is talk about Alex Rodriguez, for I am seemingly his last remaining fan on earth.

Please, blog, may I have some more?