(The following is a repeat posting from an old website that I used to do some occasional writing for. I thought it would be appropriate given the timing.)
It's time to let all of you goofballs know what's what on draft day. This is a sacred time of year when we all come together and are convinced that our teams just got ten thousand times better because now they get to have some player that's played in the same amount of NFL games as I have: ZERO. It's an important time of year, so let's not screw it up MMMkay?
The Rules for Watching the NFL Draft
Don't be That Guy
If you want to be an overpowering know-it-all and drink your Perrier with your little finger up then feel free. If you want to pontificate learnedly on your extensive knowledge of the draft process and who ran what at the combine go ahead. Seriously. Just make sure you're nowhere near me, because I'll bitch-slap you. It's man time DAMMIT. Leave your little girl BS at home.
You can pretend you know everything about every player, but don't expect me to believe you.
Listen bro, I know you're like the God of All Football Knowledge and everything but stop pretending. I mean, I could sit here talking about Otis Hertz and Mike Easter and you'd start quoting stats. Those two don't even exist. You know just as much about these guys as I do, so deal.
I bought the pizza. I am eating the pizza. If you want pizza there is a place on the corner. They'll be happy to take your money.
And they only charge five dollars for a small with two toppings you cheap fuck! That's why I have one. You know what though? I'll be nice and let you call up there on my phone. That way I can get the reward points, because I'm a cheap fuck too.
If you bring your girl/wife/etc she'd better know the game.
Seriously. If I have to stop my geeking just to explain to some damn woman what a tight end is or if – heaven forbid – I hear a story about how she only watches football because she likes men who bend over while wearing tight pants I'm throwing you BOTH out. Oh, and I'm KEEPING your pizza.
If you stand in front of the TV when my team is picking you will be shot.
Then stabbed, beaten, hung, whipped, castrated, murdered and severely injured. Repeatedly. I may not know who this guy is either, but I still want to know what his name is and where he played. Sit your ass down, shut the fuck up and talk to me AFTER I get done geeking out.
There is a time and place to talk about your life, problems and issues.
And it's damn sure not in my living room during the middle of the draft. As a matter of fact you should probably find a woman to share your insecurities with. I'll just think you're a bitch.
If you crap in my bathroom, it'd better not stink.
Seriously. I know it's a long weekend. I know that we've been eating pizza and wings the whole time. I'm even aware that there is a reason the beer shits are called the beer shits. But dammit, I might have to go in there. If you can't control your gas enough that I can breathe in my own bathroom you'd best take yourself to the McDonalds down the street. You stinky fuck. And May God Help You if you take the last piece of my toilet paper.
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