Ever been on a couples trip to the beach where the other couples have AT LEAST three kids a pop? That’s right, I say “at least”, for I am not even entirely sure how many of these little bastards I’ll be d*cking around with. I bring this up only because I’ve been participating in extravagant amounts of soul-searching, spending more time on my knees than Elton John’s personal taint-trimmer, begging the Elders for a resolution that never seems to arrive: Does Beddict want children of his own some day? First off, who are you to say that I don’t have a child somewhere that I don’t know about? Secondly, I passed out last night before even finishing a paragraph as, for some reason, people still actually believe getting fast food is a wonderful idea, even though it’s full of outrageously disgusting products that make me feel like I just inhaled four sticks of deep fried butter and washed it down with a liter of turbo-lax. Seriously, I love sitting around with 17 kids, pretending to be somewhat interested in whatever these other adults living the American dream have to say, while simultaneously following all the MLB action going on and wondering if their wive’s were attractive at one point in time…

“Sorry, what did you say dude? Your truck has how much horsepower and your hatch-back with super-sick exhaust is hella bad-ass, even though you are pushing 50? Why are your dogs locked in a cage in the middle of the living room and why do they look as if they would love nothing more than to chew on my throat for 35 minutes, following that up with a neighborhood cat-killing spree that makes The Purge, look tamer than Home Alone 3, you know the one with that wack ass kid from Liar, Liar?”

I seriously need answers on how you guys/gals live your life with actual children around all the time… I cannot get anything done. In fact, I can hear the little beasts now, as everyone is waking up for a FULL 8 hours on the beach in 90-plus degree weather. Maybe I’ll tell them I’m almost done with an extremely important write-up and that I’ll meet them at their beach spot, when in fact I’ll just be doing lines with one of those creepy bathroom attendant dudes who sells cologne spray and single cigarettes at the local strip club, which I’m sure is absolute garbage. You’ve got to be realistic about these things.

Anyway, here’s what I noticed last night regarding the fantasy baseball world as I rudely ignored all the other adults in the house. Take heed!