Fantasy Footballers, we’re set.  The draft has been held, and four pretty good teams are set to go.
Enjoy!
Remember, the season starts tomorrow night.  Any changes should be made before 7:00 p.m.
Senator Hair-Butt-Plugs, you are so  effin’ toast. 
Over the weekend, former top chief bottom-of-the-barrel Demoscum Danni-boy Fowler was overheard saying,
“The hurricane’s going to hit New Orleans about the time they start. The timing is — at least it appears now that it’ll be there Monday. That just demonstrates that God’s on our side. [Laughter] Everything’s cool.”
Trouble is, the remark was “overheard”…by a tape recorder.
Oops.
Sunday, the dickhead ex-head Donktard issued an “apology”.
“If this offended anybody, I personally apologize,” Fowler told ABC News. “It was a mistake, and it was a satirical statement made in jest. And one that I clearly don’t believe.”
Uh-huh.  Right.  Sure.
It might  have been more believable, had you not immediately followed it up with this (which is the reason the word “apology” is in sneer-quotes above):
“One doesn’t anticipate that one’s private conversation will be surreptitiously taped by some right-wing nutcase,” said Fowler. “But that’s the nature of what we’re dealing with.”
‘Zat so, Danielle?  Try telling that to Newt Gingrich.
Pathetic little scumbag weasel. 
[SCENE:  In orbit above the Shelliak home world, Pegasus  sits quietly, as the admiral and his XO, Korrioth, prepare to beam down to discuss business with the Shelliak.
From the surface, a large torpedo-like ball of energy flies toward, and hits, the ship, encasing it in an aurora borealis of coronal discharge and knocking it out of orbit, crippling several ship’s systems in the process.
On the bridge, bodies go flying – including that of Our Hero™, who was not prepared and could not brace himself in time.
Fast forward fifteen minutes later.  The bridge is still a mess, but at least some systems have been restored.  The Admiral, still in his hooded cloak, is on the intercom to Engineering.]
THE ADMIRAL:  Good work, Ozy.  Soon as you have power up, work on bringing the particle disruptors online.
[As main power kicks in and the bridge lights come up, all heads snap around to face the Admiral.  Shocked visages are on the faces of the bridge crew.  Even Captain Korrioth, though his jaw is the only one not on the deck, might be mistaken for Gowron at the moment.]
OZY MCCOOL (over speaker):  Uh…confirm that last order, m’lord?
[A snarl crosses the Admiral’s countenance.  The eyes again glow purple.]
THE ADMIRAL:  You heard the order, Commander.  Now.
OZY MCCOOL:  (ulp) Uh…aye, sir.
KORRIOTH:  Admiral, surely…
THE ADMIRAL:  Station, Captain.
[Korrioth visibly swallows hard himself.]
KORRIOTH:  Yes, my lord.
THE ADMIRAL:  Helm, bring us within range.  Lock disruptors on the planet.  Their strongest power source, if you can find it.
K’HADIBAK’H (knowing better than to argue):  Yes, Admiral.
[Touching the appropriate controls, K’hadibak’h moves Pegasus  20,000 kellicams from the planet, while simultaneously establishing disruptor lock.  The speakers chirp from the command console, and Ozy’s voice comes across.]
OZY MCCOOL:  Engineering to Bridge.  Particle disruptors online and ready.
THE ADMIRAL:  Thank you, Commander.  (to K’hadibak’h) Full power, tactical.  And…fire.
[Cut to external view.  Four particle beams emanating from Pegasus’  wings converge on a point 50 meters ahead of the ship’s bow, then are joined by one larger beam from the ship’s nose.
The unified beam then, after a second’s pause, shoots toward the Shelliak homeworld.  The planet is vaporized on impact, the shockwave sending Pegasus  backwards several hundred thousand kellicams.
As Pegasus  drifts, sheer silence reigns on the bridge for two solid minutes.  The Admiral’s eyes have ceased glowing – for now.  But on his face, a look of intense pain has temporarily replaced the scowl, the result of a severe migraine headache.
Korrioth is the first to break the silence.]
KORRIOTH:  Orders, my lord?
[The Admiral considers for a moment, then stands and turns for the bridge doors.]
THE ADMIRAL:  Yes.  I’ll be in my quarters with that Theragen concoction of yours.  Contact our shipmaster and advise him that the…negotiations…with the Shelliak were a failure.  Let him know that the materials he requires will be coming from elsewhere.
KORRIOTH:  Aye, sir.
THE ADMIRAL:  Then set course for Nossican territory and contact their government.  Advise them of our needs and that we’ll pay a fair price.  And send them footage of our Shelliak “negotiations”.
KORRIOTH (swallowing hard again):  Yes, my lord.  Anything else?
[The Admiral turns and freezes Korrioth with the hardest look the Klingon/Vulcan hybrid has ever seen.]
THE ADMIRAL:  Yes.  Make sure they know that they will be dealing directly…
[As he speaks, the Admiral’s eyes are once again ablaze in purple.]
THE ADMIRAL:  …with Lord Darth Venomous himself.
[The Admiral dons the hood and stalks out.]
…
Okay, Denizens, the Big Box™ is back up.  Ranting shall now continue, unabated.