I somehow managed to finish tied for third place in the I Dislike Your Favorite Team NFL Pick 'Em contest. I'd actually been in first place for a few weeks in the middle of the season. But I got cocky. Finishing in the top three helps to ease the sting of my worst fantasy football finish ever. I lost in the first round of the playoffs. However, I lost to the team I narrowly beat to win our division and who went on to win the Super Bowl. So, yay! my division.
Alas, third place isn't good enough to win me another Jesus statue. I'm still trying to get Big Blue Monkey to tell me what it is that I've won. I hope it's something good.
Sometimes, there's a voice in my head that cautions me when I play games with boys. She says that if I keep beating them, they won't want to play with me any more. But I'm still friends with The OC after consistently kicking his ass every year since he asked me to join his fantasy football league. And while I did win the IDYFT NCAA tourney pool, I only finished third in this most recent contest, so it's not like I won everything. Besides, the IDYFT boys are all such secure, manly men that I'm sure they can handle getting beat by a girl every now and again.
The voice that tells me I shouldn't be too competitive is the same one that tells me I shouldn't curse or burp in front of boys I am just meeting or might like. Sometimes I try to listen, like when I was drinking root beer at The Boy I Currently Like's place. But it was root beer! As I nearly always do, I ended up telling that whiny bitch to shut the fuck up and then I belched. He's still talking to me, so he couldn't have been that disgusted. I hope.