The Good Life.

Dear Losers,

352I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, "I wonder what it’s like… I wonder if the good life is everything that I always thought it might be…" It is friends. It’s all that and so much more. 

In the eight months or so since I won all of your money, my life has changed in ways I never thought possible. Doors that had been heretofore slammed in my face are now flung wide since I thumped you all so soundly with the likes of Josh McCown as my QB1. The quiet cabin of my Kia Sorento seems all the more quiet now that other luxury car owners (also apparent Fantasy Football Champs) have accepted me into their brethren of wealthy awesomes. Their acceptance would not have been possible without you fine men — and for that I am thankful. I can’t thank you guys enough for letting me draft LeSean McCoy (round 2!) and Alfred Morris… and Eddie Lacy… and Knowshon Moreno… and Le’Veon Bell…  (Christ! Did you guys draft any Running Backs…) — for without such sacrifice, I could not be enjoying this aforementioned good life. 

(And I am enjoying it.)
It comes as no surprise to me that you are all back this year. Why not roll the dice once again and try to attain this… this, thing. This feeling. This sharpness I’ve been basking in. This extended periphery that one gains only after smiling knowingly for months on end. I applaud your tenacity. I’ve always found the stick-to-it-iveness of the little people to be one of your most remarkable traits. 

So — let’s turn the page, fuckos. Let’s belly up to the table once again and let the chips fall where they may. 

And if there be some part of you — some nagging feeling that this endeavor may not be worth your time and effort… that the sleepless Sunday nights worrying about your kicker’s ability on Monday might not be worth the potential (though improbable) possibility of reaching our league’s highest peak… If that doubt and the prospect of those sleepless nights seem like they might very well be too much for you to endure, please (PLEASE!) keep in mind that I do not care about your equivocation. Not in the least. I hope you lose sleep. That’s the fun part. It is finally go time, men. Shit is about to get real and, in the words of TV’s Dr. Stanley Keyworth, “It’s your money. It’s about to be my money. And I sleep just fine.”
Here’s the order in which you will all be falling all over yourselves around my feet:
Hugs and Kisses,
Matt (HMFIC, The Red Hands Football Club)
Seriously.  It’s been fourteen FUCKING WEEKS, dudes.

Seriously.  It’s been fourteen FUCKING WEEKS, dudes.


MOK, MATTY, COREY AND FRANTS OWE FIFTY BUCKS.  You are all also in the bottom half of the standings.  Meat Machine, who paid his dues like a gentleman, will assuredly skyrocket northward from here on out.  

Unlike this joker, who now has a girlfriend and can’t be bothered to do things like set his lineup, play Call of Duty, or SEND IN HIS FIFTY DOLLARS:

State of the Mafia: Week Six.

Week Six has arrived — and with it, half of the league has paid their dues. The other half? Not so much. Wanna know who has paid the fifty bones they owe for the season?  


The other hosers, all with losing records, have neglected their obligations, and will no doubt continue to suffer. So don’t waste your time worrying whether you should snag Nick Foles off the waiver wire. Just send me your goddamn MONEY.

As for week five…

Human Geno Project: 2,185
The Instruction Manuel: .02

Diesel declared to the league that he is not one to be trifled with, dropping a buck twenty-nine on Kluv while leaving another 100 points on his bench. That’s right, diesel’s bench could have beaten half the teams in the league this week.  Fuck.

DeSean Of The Dead: 108
Frants Fops: Less Than 108

Brady nabbed Larry only five points, but it mattered little thanks to DeSean and Jamal with their 21’s — coupled with the fact that Tony Romo humiliated Brantley by scoring 52 fucking points on the bench.

NewYork Platinum Pappies: 107
Meat Machine: 124

The Meat proved that you don’t need to field much of a team (half of the Machine underperformed this week) when Pey-Pey is gonna get you 40+ points every week.  

The Red Hands: 87
The Riceman Cometh: 99

With four players on a bye this week, the Red Hands just missed upsetting the Ricemen — Gronk, Gronk, where art thou?

Clean Out Urlacher: WHO
The Slumbering Spermicetti: CARES

I’ll actually give a shit about these two once they pay the league dues.

State of the Mafia: Week Four.

Shitbirds —

Week four is upon us, and with that, I’m sure some of you have already started to feel the hope of a winning fantasy season start slipping from your fingers.  Though that may be true, it’s still no excuse to be a dirty effing welcher and not pay your dues.  $50 bucks is owed from each of you yardsticks, and I have only received checks from two of you:

The Glorious Christopher Rice (3-0) and The Ever-Sexy Diesel Buffness (2-1).  Notice a trend here?  Pay your debts and the fantasy gods just may smile upon you.  As for DEEB, MATTY, LARRY, BRANTLEY, MIKE and COREY — send your $50 to me and fix that karma…

Or, I keep digging up gems like these:

Now, for the week three recap:

The Riceman Cometh: 111

The Instruction Manuel: 91

Mr. Rice continues to run the table, currently sitting at 3-0 after handing The Instruction Manuel their first loss of the season.  Even a fat goose egg from Spiller wasn’t enough to slow him down, with Stafford and Jimmy Graham accounting for almost half his team’s points.  He faces the Human Geno Project this week.

DeSean of the Dead: 89

Meat Machine: 81

Thanks to some power running, Larry was able to escape the Meat Machine (and negative points from his Texan defense).  And, considering he left 104 points on his bench (78 from three players) it’s a damn lucky thing he did.  He best not do that again when he goes up against The Instruction Manuel on Sunday — who’ve scored the most points in the league so far.

Frants Fops: 103

The Slumbering Spermicetti: 71

The Fops whumped on the Sleepy Sperm, who had all but three players put up only single digit scores.  Brutal.  Frants and Mike meet this week, both eager to shake their 1-2 starts.

The Human Geno Project: 80

Clean Out Urlacher: 76

Brother versus Brother.  Diesel proved that handcuffing can go a long way, while Mok proved that Eli Manning will always kill your fantasy team.  119 yards passing?  Against a team that the BILLS beat the week before??? Welcome to 0-3, Mok.  You’ll have to take out Matty if you’re gonna avoid going 0-4.

New York Platinum Pappies: 97

The Red Hands: 77

The Pappies are on a two-game win streak after their embarrassing season opener after dispatching the Red Hands.  This is all in spite of his having the highest total of points against in the league.  Luck?  Skill?  Deeb.  Who faces a seemingly wounded (but still dangerous) Spermy in week 4.

Week One Recap.


The Instruction Manuel: 154
New York Platinum Pappies: 107

The Pappies picked up where they left off most Mafia Bowl seasons, with a big, fat loss. Even with an underperforming Megatron, he still managed to put up 107 points — which was most among the losing teams. But the Pappies are still losers. The Manuel’s bench may be thin as his hair, but if he keeps dropping a buck-fifty each week, it won’t matter.

DeSean of the Dead: 102
Slumbering Spermicetti: 80

Has the reign of Sperm come to an end? After ALMOST finishing last in 2012, he opens the 2013 season with a big, fat 80-point stinker. Four of his nine starters put up 5 points or less. He’s going to have to work his waiver wire magic to fill some holes. DeSean put up a normally respectable 102 — but like the NFL, it has become an offensive league, and 102 was only good enough to beat three other teams this week. Lucky for Larry, he was facing one of those teams.

The Riceman Cometh: 117
Clean Out Urlacher: 94

First off: congratulations to Mok for the most improved team name. After suffering through that Cutler 2.0 shit for the last few years, one has to wonder where this one came from. Has he found joy in his life again thanks to his ladyfriend? Either way, it’s hilarious and I love it. Chris, new to the league, rode respectable performances from Stafford and his receiving corps to the win. He also gets my BEST COACH OF THE WEEK AWARD because he’s the only one of you skels to actually pay his league dues.

Meat Machine: 162
The Red Hands: 106

Peyton. What else is there to say?

Frants Fops: 98
The Human Geno Project: 120

The reigning champ, who I definitely wish no ill will upon after beating me in the championship this year and stealing Reggie Bush from me this year in the fucking draft beat the Fops — who I’ve always wondered why they don’t have an apostrophe in their name (Frants’ Fops), which is just proper grammar unless Brantley is considering Frants to be a place, not a person, which is still pretty retarded.

I expect the rest of you to get your dues in by next week, or I start pulling out old embarrassing photos and share them with the world via social media.

- Kluv

Mafia Draft Order 2013 from Kevin on Vimeo.

The 2013 Mafia Bowl Draft Order.  If you can’t watch the video, then you can read the order below.  

  1. The Instruction Manuel
  2. Nicks and Tucks
  3. Frants Fops
  4. Rex’s Defibrillator
  5. Cutler 2 Marshall: too point oh!
  6. Meat Machine
  7. The Shady McCoys
  8. The Riceman Cometh
  9. The Red Hands
  10. NY Platinum Pappies


- Kluv

New year, new teams (and team names).  Welcome to Mike and Chris.  As for the rest of you — beware of the Instruction Manuel.  We’re overly complex and difficult to read.  
— Kluv

New year, new teams (and team names).  Welcome to Mike and Chris.  As for the rest of you — beware of the Instruction Manuel.  We’re overly complex and difficult to read.  

— Kluv

Lord Buffness, CHAMPEEN of the Realm.

Apparently, Diesel won the fucking league or some stupid shit.  Whatever, I think fantasy football is STUPID and I HATE IT.  Assholes.  I don’t know how much he won for coming in first, or if I get anything for second and we can’t even revel in Corey’s ultimate failure because he somehow beat HBK by ONE STUPID GODDAMN POINT.  

Christ, Garret — can’t you do anything right?

Anyways, you all probably own Larry some money or shit, but it doesn’t much matter because he’s off in Hawaii making out with Daniel Dae Kim or some shit.  All I know is that scoring the most points in the league is cold fucking consolation when you lose to the same shitbird that taunted you in week one when his real-life (terrible) team was throat raping mine.  FUCKKKKKKKK.

Final standings to the right.   Until next season, feel free to go suck a fat dick.