November 10th, 2008 - Fuck You Number 15

What is the point of telling a person a little "white-lie?" Is there some sort of satisfaction that I'm apparently unaware of, for spreading these ridiculous, untrue tales? Is there a point to flat-out lying to someone? Maybe this is something I will never understand, but I feel like it is easier, and more beneficial to everyone to simply speak the truth.

As I was walking through the airport today en route back to my lovely (and when I say lovely, I really mean wretched) home, I overheard two gentlemen discussing the recent Monday night football game played between the Colts, and the Titans. As I scanned the electronic board of departures for my flight, I heard one man tell the other he was beating his Fantasy Football opponent 370-something, to 100, and that he still had to tally the points that Peyton Manning would inevitably score during this game.

False. And, false.

I've taken part in my fair share of Fantasy Football endeavors, across an array of different Fantasy Football providers. CBS Sportline, ESPN, Yahoo; they all work roughly the same. And for a person to score 370-something points in any given week, is an outright lie. Even if you were playing with a bunch of trained gorillas, who allowed you to stack your team with the Peyton Mannings, and the Larry Fitzgeralds, while they took Kerry Collins and Wayne Chrebet (does he even play any longer?), it would still take everything short of a miracle to score 370 points.

Sorry dude. Not buying it. And what did you get out of it? Your buddy looked at you and said, "No WAY!" So you received a minor erection for approximately 20 seconds, until he looked at you with that, "Wait a minute, I'm not that stupid, you're out of your fucking mind look."

Fuck dishonesty. Fuck the compulsion to feel like you need to fill others with crap, in order for you to feel a little better about your current situation.

Cheers.