Greetings! Last I recall, the Elders and I were passing Thai sticks in the Secret Pool of Kuang Si, discussing some profoundly important subjects while we took turns etching ancient symbols into the skin directly on and surrounding the pubic region. But of course, our bodies are all immaculately smooth, hairless and chiseled, as if made from marble and then formed in the scorching lava of Mount Kilimanjaro. Why does this matter, you ask? The context will be necessary on our journey together through what looks to be a tumultuous 2017. Trust me in this, and the opportunities for massive glory in all forms of life may fall at your crusty feet like droplets of acid rain that will one day doom this planet (but not yet), burning all your self-pity and self-doubt away, peeling your skin off like a viper, you can be born anew, with a clearer vision and a more artful plan of attack. Anyways, I just woke up on an airplane, as it seems I’m headed back to the United States and below we have what one could consider a synopsis of sorts, of what the Elders and I discussed about fantasy baseball and “other things”.

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

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Please, blog, may I have some more?

My pain is self-chosen
At least, so the prophet says
I could either burn
Or cut off my pride and buy some time
A head full of lies is the weight, tied to my waist

That is quite the downer, isn’t it? Makes you want to jump out of the nearest window. Welcome to the saves game! It is the river of deceit. I can’t believe I went with a “grunge” title today, but I missed Sky this offseason. [Jay’s Note: The Emo King, to rule them all!] Mad Season is the inspiration today, as the saves game is the most emotionally painful part of the fantasy season. Well maybe “can be” the most painful would be more apt for this discussion. So in the spirit of classic me and using the song titles of Mad Season’s other bands, I will say this in hyper link glory. The closer game in the shadow of the season is a state of love and trust that hopefully signals it’s over now… in a good way. I went almost full unplugged there. So friggin’ 90’s. Enough of that decade, let’s move into today.

Please, blog, may I have some more?