Sup fatasses, been a minute. Apologies for the very brief (most of this month) hiatus. I was in Florida visiting my sellout parents in their gated community for the holidays so I was busy soaking up the sun and not being depressed. Thankfully I’ve returned to Boston and have neither of those distractions anymore.

Most of the content that performs well on here is me describing some unfortunate circumstance that has befallen me or commenting on how my gut line hangs low enough that it blocks most of the waistband on my flex fit shorts.

Whether that’s because people like people who can laugh at themselves or you all genuinely hate me and read this out of spite is not important. Long as you’re laughing* I’m happy.

(*faintly smiling at one or two lines in a 25 paragraph blog)

Well in light of this fact, I’ve decided to make my triumphant return with a tale of my latest financial woes.

Now as many of you know, I enjoy to wager here and there. However, being in Florida last week, I wasn’t able to bet as it is not legalized there outside of the occasional dog fight or turtle race. So, I did what anyone in my position would do: I begged my girlfriend to download the app and place bets in my account for me.

While I don’t believe I have a problem, this behavior did nothing to dissuade that notion. Regardless, she was more than keen to help me win money. What a foolish, naive girl she was.

What followed was the single coldest gambling streak of my life. After my fifth or sixth crushing defeat in a row, my girlfriend texted me, “I feel like these bets were well thought out and it’s just unlucky games.”

I smiled at her spinzone and readied myself to mansplain the random nature of gambling and why only land-owning men should be able to vote, but suddenly, I stopped. Something she had said turned a light on in my brain. Quickly, I opened my betting app and went to examine my past week of bets.

Most of them were, as girl said, well thought out. For the most part, every leg had hit in these parlays except for one, each time costing me the chance at between $500-$1,200 in winnings.

And that’s when, like a helmet swing from Myles Garrett, it hit me: The NFL (and NCAA) were conspiring against me to make me lose bets.

It sounds crazy, I know. But when you really think about it, is it so unbelievable? Throughout even relatively recent history, true visionaries have always been silenced by the controlling class — your JFK’s, your MLKs, your Jesuses. These are all rare minds who truly had the power to alter the course of the world with their words and deeds. But they were all struck down by the government, (JFK was an inside job, stay woke), because their ideas were viewed as “too revolutionary.” And now I, a fat sweaty blogger who regularly makes dinner recipes that require a full stick of butter, was the next target in their scope.

“But George, surely you’re not comparing yourself to MLK or Jesus?!” Well yes and no. Was I on the cusp of breaking the system and transforming the world — sure. However where I differ from these men is that I was doing it purely for personal profit whereas they were doing it for sanctity or salvation or whatever the hell Jesus was always yammering on about.

In my own selfish way however, I was truly challenging the system. Think about it, who is the biggest controlling power in the United States right now? Not the government — a stiff breeze would send ol’ Joe flying like Mary Poppins. No, the real omnipotent force behind America today is the National Football League.

With the NFL now so closely aligned with gambling and sportsbooks, much of their growth as an organization is contingent on bettors losing money and lining their pockets in the process. They couldn’t have a rogue vigilante like me disseminating matrix-breaking knowledge out to every Joe Schmo with a smartphone and a few extra bucks. The house would come crumbling down around them. Money would transfer to the poor and suddenly the people would be the new ruling class.

So what did they do? They found a way to silence me. Not with violence — that would raise too many questions, draw too many young news hounds eager to make a name for themselves. No, the NFL, and their smaller, dimmer lackey bitch the NCAA, rigged it so that I would come oh so close on every bet, only to lose in heartbreaking fashion.

“But George, why wouldn’t they just have you lose immediately? Why even make it close?”

Because it’s the hope that kills you.

They wanted to break my spirit. They wanted to make me invest so much emotionally and financially into it only to miss out on fortunes multiple times over that I would quit. Well they don’t know how much determination and how little financial intelligence I have.

Still think I’m just rationalizing? Here are only a FEW examples of my heartbreaking losses from the past week and a half. And I know no one cares about your bad beats so I tried to keep it brief.

Example 1 - The Fumble Follies

UNC dominated the first half of this game. They were the better team across the board. Yet at halftime, they were losing by 7. What gives? Well, their star running back WHO HADN’T FUMBLED ONCE ALL YEAR decided to put two on the turf inside the 10-yard-line. Two would-be touchdowns that would all but guarantee the bet in the first half, completely wiped off the board by a guy with superior ball security. Including this one:

Potential winnings lost: Little over $1,000

Example 2 - The Moneyline Mishaps

Teams lose to inferior opponents sometimes — it’s the NFL, I get it. But 3 in that short of a time span? Idk man, idk.

The Chargers are incompetent so that makes sense. The Bills one was baffling, but the Broncos have been surging of late. Still though, Buffalo is cold and intimidating as shit. I went there for the playoff game where the Pats got their dicks kicked in and Buffalo fans were literally launching themselves into the door of the Port-a-Potty while I was taking a piss.

But the really painful one for me is the Vikings. This happened just the other day on Monday Night Football. I spend three hours watching dogshit, turnover-riddled football, with commercials literally every 5 minutes. The first few legs hit pretty easily, but Hockensen, probably the team’s best current pass-catcher with Justin Jefferson out, was quiet. Then with maybe 5-6 minutes left in the game, he needs 17 more yards to hit the prop. And the Vikings were on the 17-yard-line…

The only touchdown of the game improbably gave me exactly the 50 yards I needed to hit all my bets. Now the Vikings just needed one stop against one of the worst offenses in the league and my bet was a winner. Finally, the gambling gods were back on my side.

Or were they…

Faced with a 3rd and long and no timeouts remaining on their subsequent drive, Bears QB Justin Fields had ample time to stand in the pocket and try to find a receiver. And he found one.

DJ Moore, arguably the only person you actually have to cover on the Bears is standing wide open about 40 yards downfield while 3 Vikings pick their ass behind him. He catches it, Bears get into chipshot field goal range, run out the clock, and I lose another bet. Oh and these stats are fun:

Sick, glad I could be part of history. Look me in the eye and tell me the NFL didn’t force the Vikings to throw that game.

Potential winnings lost: ~$700

Example 3 - The Warren Commission

Wow, I’ve managed to sneak two JFK assassination references in here. Good for me. Except in this case, I’m not referring to the government’s cover up off the real culprit behind the Kennedy murder (stay woke). I’m talking about the new permanent resident of my shit list, Steelers running back Jaylen Warren. Why do I harbor such resentment towards him, you ask? Well…

Do you know how unlikely it is to predict 6 touchdown scorers on the same day across multiple games. IT’S PRETTY FUCKING UNLIKELY. But it was all foiled by one man: Jaylen fucking Warren. He came up just 3 yards shy of that rushing total and was TAKEN OUT OF THE GAME on the goal line to watch the Steelers other RB punch in a TD. He broke my heart.

Potential winnings lost (between the 2 bets): $7,500(!!!!!)

In summation, I know I probably have a (minor) problem. And I know every gambler says the league or its players are conspiring against them. But look at the evidence I’ve presented and tell me that there isn’t something going on here that’s bigger than all of us. You can’t. And these weren’t even all of the losses. Whatever, we live to bet another day.