For those of us in a relationship of any kind; friend, butt-buddy, SO, FWB, you’ll find yourself in situations where you are performing small to big favors for them.  This can range from; thoughtful, spur of the moment, or eating ass.  Exactly what these situations entail are minor details, but the fact of the matter is that it doesn’t matter, you do it because you care. You will find yourself in many of these relationships throughout life and some asses are dirtier than others, I’m looking at you Commish.

Now one day, you and your group of friends decide to do something really fun. “It’ll bring us closer together,” they say. “We will have so much fun,” they chant. And me, the beautiful piece of shit that was God’s accident agree with them. You start to keep score. That time you jumped on a grenade for your homie, bought that 30 rack as the late night hero, or found yourself dirty down below without any tp and after surviving the burning agony of paper towels – I’m looking at you college – the trauma induced foresight had you buying a Costco sized tp to keep your closest friends from the same fate. Depending on your world view, this could be scored like golf or basketball, but balance is the true goal.

After day one you would hate each and every fucker that wasn’t measuring up to your invisible expectations each second of every day. And this hate would burn your heart down and out your ass like the AIDS after a weekend of drinking #ASU. This is my fantasy hell. The balance for me is to care just enough to not be The Taco, Return of the King, but any more than that and football loses all joy. Football is the only time I can watch grown men engage in legal combat with my brain turned off, beer in hand, and laugh at The Commish as the ponies squib kick another season into the shitter.

And RIP Michelle’s and Shit Balls’ love for the yellow squiggly line team, they were the funnest to watch flush down with their playoff dreams each and every missed field goal.

Phillip Rivers for Hall of Choking Champions.