Greetings! I’m just feeling so grateful to be alive and to be given this international platform to share my thought process with you fine people. I’m even thankful for the haters, for without pond scum, there would be nothing for the snails to feast upon in the filthy mud puddles throughout this great land.

Today, I give you some players I plan on reaching on, and some I plan on avoiding in my upcoming drafts. I’m not necessarily passing on them because of their abilities or projections, but because I feel it necessary to do so on my prime path to glory. Originally, I was going to base this off of Grey’s rankings, but I looked, and as per usual, Grey’s thought process is pretty much on par with mine (I hope he’s not insulted by this), so I chose another fantasy lord I sort of respect in ESPN’s resident fantasy nerd, Eric Karabell, who I imagine as the spawn of Sky Sperling and Garth Algar. Many of you will be facing others who go off of ESPN lists, as they for some reason haven’t seen the light, and switched to 100 percent Razzball based advice, so this should give you a major advantage. That is, if I’m correct. If I’m wrong, forget I said any of the following.

I am Tehol Beddict, and these are my reaches and recoils! Take heed!

The 2018 Razzball Commenter Leagues are now open! Free to join with prizes! All the exclamation points!

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?

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?

Oh there’s a shindig goin down in Miami ya’ll! Part of me feels like I should hop on the next flight down there bringing only my man-kini, penis pump, rabbit-fur coat, white Stacy Adams, one pair of snakeskin pants, and 3 Armani Exchange bro-tops. My manhood has been requested back in Miami now for some time and with my favorite player, LeBron “The High King” James, leading his Miami Heat to back-to-back Championships, I can’t think of an acceptable reason to say no. Especially when I think about the time Pat Riley and I, Chinese finger trapped Chris Bosh’s wife. A$$ for days playas! By the way, Bosh scored 0 points in game 7.

Please, blog, may I have some more?