How Many Dude Bros Does it Take to Pick a Lameass Fantasy Football Team?

This is Day 2 of no cookies and Day 5 of no running and I’m already knee-deep in a funk. It’s only going to get worse from here, dear readers, but I promise that if I fall within view of rock bottom I’ll limp downstairs to the deli and dive headfirst into a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

While walking is painful and running is excruciating, cycling is relatively pain-free so I strapped on my Velcro-closured, carbon-soled, cleated shoes, pumped up my tires and met up with Cycling Friend J for a ride last night. We crossed the GW Bridge and cruised through the lovely and hilly suburbs of Bergen County, NJ. “Cruised” might not be the right word to describe it. He was cruising; I was just trying not to die, especially on a four-mile climb that nearly gave me a heart attack. Still, we agreed that it was one of the more enjoyable longer than expected, one water bottle, no food, nearly hit by a car, cramped calf muscle, caught in the dark on 9W ride either of us has had. I slept like a baby last night. And we’re doing it all over again tonight. Sweet.

I know I goof off at work as much as the next person (okay, possibly more, for lack of actual tasks), but Loud Guy is ridiculous. He’s ridiculoud. He’s been on the phone with his Dude Bros for the past two hours discussing his Fantasy Football draft. Seriously, Loud Guy, are you that inept that you can’t make your picks without a conference call? At this point, C and I are convinced that he’s never watched a game of football in his life and is just using buzz words he’s heard to fake it. You know, like how I jabber on when someone asks me how Nice Hedge Fund operates. (Quantum macro group! Trading Floor! Futures growth! Long or short assets!) I’m full of shit frequently enough to recognize it in others and your cover is blown, Loud Guy. You just mispronounced that Carolina QB’s name – it’s French you moron, the “H” is silent. Then the website he was using for his draft wasn’t working and he actually called IT to help him with what is so obviously NOT A WORK ISSUE. I can’t decide if he’s ballsy or just that clueless.

I think I’m going to call IT now and complain that porn isn’t working on my computer and could they maybe help me with that? Great, thanks.

Then he gets on the phone with his boss and says he’s “just back from a few meetings.” Right, the way “on a call with an analyst” translates to “screaming at his girlfriend for not texting him back the other night because she was having sex with someone else.”

I love football season (Go Eagles!), but it’s going to be a long five months if I have to listen to him on the phone every week with his Dude Bros lamenting the suckitude of his team.