B365V3.49 - Carl Douglas dreams

So this is the evening of my second fantasy football draft.  I fucked up the first one, I thought it was at 8:30 Sunday evening, it was at 6:30 instead, so the system had to auto draft for me.  I guess it came up with an okay team, though I will be honest, fantasy football is turning into one of those things that I just don't care much about anymore.  I think the breaking point for me was the Ray Rice incident.  We all had an inkling of what happened, even before the elevator video.  Then the commissioner basically stuck his head in the sand, as if ignorance could be bliss in this instance, then proceeded to go on a bunch of witch hunts throughout the league to show how tough he is, and instituting rule changes just to prop up the illusion he was doing something.  Football for me has just about crossed the line wrestling did a few years back when Chris Benoit murdered his entire family and the WWE did a night dedicated to Chris without knowing the facts of the case, so they ended up spending a night praising a murderer. 

Perhaps I miss my old league with the guys from Uncle Jimmy's as well.  That league was for money (neither of my current leagues play for cash) and we had our assortment of fantasy football league stereotypes in it, the guy who was in because everyone else was, even if it was unclear what he was doing; the guy who would bitch the league entry fee was too low, we should be playing for more money, then when he would lose a game, would bitch about the rules and everything else.  This was usually met with abject pussy references from the other league members (what a pussy?, adjust your tampon, must be his time of the month, etc.).  Its politically incorrect shit, but it is a bunch of guys talking amongst a bunch of guys.  Then there were the guys who would complain about no trades being made through the course of the season, but they offer nothing and expect everything.  It the fantasy lingo, someone who trades away talent and gets nothing in return has been trade raped.  There were others who would make a deal just to say they made one, and still others whom you couldn't carry on a conversation with without it coming back to their fantasy team.  It was all consuming for them.   I like my team and all, but it isn't the only thing going on in my life. 

In that regard it was like my friend Jim, we used to meet up on Sundays and play Dungeons & Dragons.  It was a cool bunch of people, every Sunday we would play for a few hours.  If my girlfriend at the time was playing with us, we would be sure to see she was killed first so we could enjoy the rest of our afternoon.  But every time I would see Jim during the course of the week, he would start talking D&D strategy for the following Sunday.  It became all consuming. 

What do you know, my bitching and moaning got me up to draft time, then with 14 teams the draft took a while and now I am back.  Not really enamored with my team, but then I put no effort into it, unlike back in the day when I would have had two draft guides and charted who I wanted.  I would have scoured the internet, wrote a couple of blog posts about who I did like and who I didn't.  Nowadays I don't like anyone, so that problem is solved.  I did get some pre draft good news though, I am getting my Valentine's Day present, a pair of tickets to see the Pens and Canucks.  Now I just have to go finding someone I can tolerate for an evening, besides myself.

I should be going to bed, I volunteered for a double at work tomorrow, but recently I have been having vivid dreams that I remember as soon as I wake up (because I sleep for like an hour at a time, I am a horrible bed mate) but then I look at the clock and go back to sleep again and forget about the dream and have another one, wake up again and repeat the process.  It is like channel flipping in my brain.  I should get a dream book an write this stuff down as it happens (plenty of semi decent blog material in there) but a dream book sounds too much like work and I work enough as it is.

Prime example, the other night I went to bed around 4am, woke up at 5am from a dream.  In the dream I was sitting in a bar.Because it was a dream, it started taking o the aspects of real life, I looked around the bar for a poker machine to kill some time and couldn't find one, so I went up to the bar and ordered a Yuengling.  The bartender for some reason brought me a full rocks glass of Jameson's, which is good enough in my book.  So I am sitting there nursing my drink, the bartender gives out last call so I am making my way to the exit.  Right at the door is a girl sitting on a barstool, I assume it was the bouncer's perch most of the time, but she is sitting there instead.  people are walking out of the bar, the door is propped part way open and I decide I will make some small talk.  Mind you, even in my dreams I am defeatist, I figure nothing will come of this, no exchange of numbers or anything of the like, to which I am not disappointed.  She is just sitting there and I am standing there and we are talking when all of a sudden, two guys cut between us, one gets betwen me and her, the other knocks her off of her barstool.  the door flies open and she falls, I see at this point there is a set of steps leading up to the door.  She had fallen in such a manner that she landed beside the steps onto what I would have assumed was the sidewalk.  I go outside to see if she is okay and the street isn't a street, rather a series of concrete landings with more steps between them.  She hadn't fallen onto the sidewalk, but rather onto one of the landings, rolled down another flight of steps and was laying on the second landing down.   Chivalry isn't dead in my dreams, I went to see if she was okay, I see her standing now, she is being pinned against the wall by the same guy who knocked her off the barstool.  As I am going to see if she is okay, the other guy gets between me and the steps down to the next landing and is mouthing some type of warning to not go down there if I know what's good for me.  I proceed to kick him in the chest (everybody was kung fu fighting, those kicks were fast as lightning) and knock him down the flight of steps to the next landing and then I wake up.  Perhaps my mind was bored with this story at that point, much as you the reader probably are, and wanted to change the channel, I woke up, puttered around the apartment for a minute, then went back to sleep to dream again.

Oh well, like I said, I double in the morning (,ore vacation money, yay!) so I had better call it a night.