Zinger

We had our annual fantasy football draft this past weekend. I know that I don't have time for it, but it does provide for a nice little diversion from the week's normal toils. Unfortunately for me, this year I found out at the last moment that I would not be available to draft my team as I was going to be away from my computer, so would instead have to rely on the online program's picking methodology to draft all of my players. What this would mean is that, instead of relying on my years of accumulated knowledge of the game, as well as my studious attention to all things NFL and my perennial draft-picking savvy, I would have to rely on a computer program to randomly select players that the program deemed best for me. Such is life.

So we return home, hours after the draft had ended, and I tell my Beloved that I'm somewhat afraid to log on to see what team I'm going to have to work with this year. My curiosity gets the best of me though, and I log in and take a look.

"Hey, it's actually not bad," I comment to her. "I definitely could have done worse."

(pause)

"Dude, you HAVE done worse."

She quickly walked away, not even willing to help pull the still quivering dagger out of my pride.