Commish Report
Week 10 - November 2, 2002
Congratulations to Pops in week 10 on his $270 take. It's now a three-man race for last place. As a group we are having better than average year, and those who have won money should be commended.
This week we're going to see what we can learn about the individuals involved in this crazy scheme by digging into the mailbag. You people have submitted a lot of questions and comments over the weeks, and I'm going to take the opportunity to answer some of those in this public forum. This should be fun.
Dear Commish:
Does it mean I'm gay if… Wait let me start over. Let's say I've got this friend. His name is, say, Tommy Maxwell. If he were to put peanut butter on his balls and let his dog, who is male, lick it off, would that make him gay?
-Halvorsen a.k.a. Tyrone Willingham
Dear Mr. Maxwell:
Wow, you are one sick bastard. No wonder you want to let your dog make your picks. I guess your wife got tired of the routine… Ooow! I'm yus keeeding! Keep up the good work.
Dear Commish:
Thanks for all of your hard work. Your tireless dedication to the pool and its members is the single bright spot in my life. The rise and fall of my weekly LYA results is like oxygen to me. I only hope that I can survive the off season. Thanks for making it happen. You're great. I love you.
-GFB
Dear Mr. Fuckingboss:
Wow, you are one sick bastard. Maybe I need to hook you up with Mr. Maxwell… Ooow! I'm yus keeeding! Keep up the good work.
Dear Commish:
There was this one time; I was riding on a skateboard holding a rope tied to the bumper of my buddy Lil' Bastard's Jeep - you know the typical Friday night shenanigans - except this time I was naked, which was not totally out of the ordinary except that it was cold as balls out, snowing and everything. Well Lil' Bastard hit an ice patch and swerved uncontrollably to miss a truck in front of him only I couldn't turn fast enough cause I was taking a sip of my beer, right? So I slam into the bumper of the truck, and my balls shoot up into my stomach, which wouldn't have been so bad had my sack not adhered to the metal bumper on account of it being so cold. The fire department had to come and everything. It was very embarrassing.
-Venus HamPster Balls
Dear Mr. Balls:
Wow, you are one sick bastard. I'm not sure which is more disturbing, that you were able to make that sick story up or that you felt compelled to share it with me. I have nothing more to say to that. Keep up the good work.
Dear Commish:
Where's the matrix you cock-lick son of a vondrook. MA-TRIX…MA-TRIX!
-Barfly, that's right, Barfly
Dear Mr. Fly:
Wow, you are one sick bastard. Is that an actual curse word? Let me see…vondrook, oh yes, here it is in the dictionary: vän' - druk - A mythological beast found in college football known to destroy otherwise perfect seasons. Also known as the two-headed quarterback…Ooow! I'm yus keeeding! Keep up the good work.
Dear Commish:
Why does everybody want me to lose so bad? I even caught my trader wife on the website trying to change my picks, so I bashed her shin with the remote and made her wear my Notre Dame helmet all weekend. C'mon! P.S. I think Halvorsen may be gay.
-Lou Holtz
Dear Mr. Holtz:
Wow, you are one sick bastard. Did you let her take the mouthpiece out before she serviced you?… Ooow! I'm yus keeeding! Keep up the good work.
Dear Commish:
Snapitoverhishead, snapitoverhishead, snapitoverhishead, snapitoverhishead.
- Pops
Dear Mr. Pops:
WELL DONE, my friend.
Dear Commish:
I thought I would go ahead and submit my picks for the rest of the year. Georgia… DOUBLE. Kentucky… DOUBLE. Wake, Virginia, South Carolina, and whoever is playing Tech. Pro? Who cares. I usually just flip a coin. You go ahead and pick for me.
-David Jones, Esquire
Dear Mr. Esquire:
I LIKE IT. The only way you could possibly go wrong is if Georgia's dream season is ruined, and I am hear to tell you my friend that NO WAY does that happen. NO WAY. Keep up the good work. (Dated 11/1/02)
Dear Commish:
Why did you get me involved in this pool of loser shitbags. They make me sick. These people are beneath me, and I can't wait to put them all in their places at the LYA viewing party.
- Michael Mathis
Dear Mr. 'You couldn't be more right':
I hear you. Just between me and you, they're really getting on my nerves. Their fat sweaty faces all pathetic and sad at the viewing party is more than I can stomach. It will be all I can do to not throw up on all of them. Of course, you won't tell them I said that. P.S. I plan to piss in the chili-cheese dip, so steer clear.
Seeyainaweek! LITERALLY this time!