WTF?

Indeed...so to be perfectly honest, I had this huge elaborate story that I wanted to write about, but in the past week(s) I have just wanted to move forward. So basically, the place where I work, a communications firm in Salt Lake (inside joke to all you PR people out there,) held a fanstasy football competition. The story was to be this...that I was magically wisked away to a magical land where a storm was gathering and races from across the lands where converging on a magical relic. Kind of an Amazing Race type of thing...only killing was allowed. I was to face formidable foes like the "Pretender to the Throne," Schwe of Bach, the ever elusive Na"Tron",

and other crazy creatures in my quest for the ultimate prize. There were to be 13 obstacles that stood in my way. Each obstacle represented somebody that I worked with. So in allm, there were 14 teams in this fantasy football league. 14 teams! There were a couple of us that bemoaned this fact due to the free-agents that would be left should you lose someone on your roster. Say McNabb goes down. Well, I look to see who I could replace him with and my best option would be John Beck on the freaking dolphins (I don't respect that team enough to even capitalize them, so HA!!) So back to the 14 team deal...so it was tough, but we all managed to survive.

After fighting through opponents like them, two ladies who sit next to me, and beat me in the early weeks (they didn't let me forget BTW,) and other hardcore fantasy footbal diehards. It was pretty disheartening some Mondays and Tuesdays when the point totals came in and the office was full of serious smacktalk until the next week where hopefully your team would win and not be prone to ridicule from the 7 other people whose teams won. Inner-office emails would be the bane of everyone's existence for about 13 weeks. And Mr. Lambnation's weekly scoreboard emails would only reopen old wounds.

Mr.Lamb, we all thank you. So anyways, my story was to be one full of mystery, betrayal and intrigue. A little humor was to be thrown around every now and then. Sometimes, I feel like I am too impatient for my own good. After sitting on this past entry for so long, there were things that I would notice during the day that I would think, "That would make an awesome blog entry, but alas...I need to finish that damn post!" So I really do just want to wrap this up. Each person who had a role in this story, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. You did truly inspire me, and for that I need to pass a little love your way. I selected a picture for each of you that I thought best represented your team name and how you dealt with things throughout the season. As it is, we the winners thank you, and the losers rue the day you started those mass emails. Anyone who enjoys a cold bev. is ok in my book tho-

The cast of characters follows:

Ultimate Awesomeness = William Freaking Shatner. Mr. Howe, you embody everything that is cool, and I thought a little Shatner love would suit you just fine.

For Marc (aka Bonecrushers,) I thought this picture suited him best because of mean-spirited (but masked as jokingly nice smack.) (Psst, BYU Still sucks Marc.)

For Mr. Lima The Dark Bludgers...could I do anything less?

Helen, the Democratic Dynamo...I am sorry, and a little scared.

Walt, "TheMoneyman," let me hit you with a little old school Final Fantasy III or VI (depending on what side of the ocean you are from,) Knowledge...Kefka. Enough said.

Now the Saginaw Spirit...you had us all fooled. We didn't know who you were for weeks. You didn't even respond to the countless emails, and yet you kept on winning. We soon uncovered your guise, and kept on losing to you.

And now that just leaves us one last participant. A man who would come in a mess your team up just enough to lose once or twice. He was the poison of the league. He finished dead last but had four wins under his belt. Four wins that translated into four losses for others that very well could have determined the outcome, and for that I thank you Mr. Woodsie.

So now the last chapter can be written, you have met all the players, and seen their masks removed. Duellie, crawling amongst the tattered remains of his final foe, once his closest friend and ally, The ARB Rejects, looked towards the "Summit" where a faint light shimmered in the darkness. The rocks tore at his flesh, and the smoke-filled air burned his lungs, but he knew that he must reach this light or perish beneath the blackened sky like those who lay behind him.

A small ledge welcomed our weary traveler, and he paused to look out across this strange land that had been ripped apart by the coveting of this one prize...this one treasure...the one ring. Gathering his strength the best he could, our hero continued upwards on the slopes of the seemingly endless ruin of the mountain he now climbed. Bruised, battered, betrayed and thirsty (always needing a cold beverage,) he cursed the day he had been summoned to the strange land Athletically Challenged. Why did it torment him so to be here? Why were somedays so much better than others? And then he saw it...sitting there on a smooth slab of granite. The One Ring that had eluded thousands, perhaps millions before him, and now it was his for the taking...finally, the treasure that so many coveted, fought for and dare I say...killed for was here for him to take...and it is mine. My Precious.