It’s the other 2% I’m after.

It’s fantasy football time, kids. I am the commissioner for the ESPN league Turnbaby Tackles. The league is free to join, you just have to create an account with ESPN.com.

The league is made of up ten teams, five in each division. The first division has been filled.

I am coaching the Boston Mobsters.
Bond is at the helm of the Bronx Badda Bings.
Jay is fielding the proud Arkansas Deatheaters.
Tim is in control of the Florabama Knuckleheads.
Turnbaby has assembled the Southern Sirens.

It’s all about having fun and competing with other bloggers on the gridiron. God, that sounded gay.

It’s not an ultra-serious gung-ho league, but we do ask that if you join that you stick it out through the season. There is nothing more frustrating than having a league full of owners that quit halfway through when their team starts to falter.

It will be an auto-draft, so all you have to do is pre-rank the players, or you can go with the ESPN rankings. We’d prefer players who have played fantasy football before, because I am a lousy teacher.

If you want an invite, shoot me an email and I’ll get one out to you. We have five teams left, so first come first served.

Thanks!

In case you are interested, Turnbaby Talks will be celebrating its One Year Anniversary at 8 PM EST on Sunday July 20.

I am told that there will be Quid Pro Quo and Live Trivia. Also, rumors have been swirling about a Special Mystery Guest that will be on the show. The buzz is that this guest will be speaking on such diverse topics as blogger drama, the mysteries of life, and how to get rid of stubborn grass stains.

I have also learned that this guest will be divulging some secrets about Turnbaby that you may not have known. Also, it may finally revealed where that little bastard Waldo has been all this time.

The Special Mystery Guest may also be handing a few prizes out himself.

I’ve done a bit of sleuthing, and the smart money says that the Special Mystery Guest will be none other than Mr. Ben Vereen. But you never know. It might be someone else.

I think I’ll catch the show. Should be a good one. And a one year anniversary on BlogTalkRadio is certainly worth celebrating.

I am going to have to figure out what to wear. I want to impress Mr. Vereen.

I think Tempted by Squeeze is one of the all time great songs as far as lending itself to parody. A while back I did Tempted By The Sweet Sally Struthers. It occurs to me that a pretty good song could be written titled Tempted By The Cooch Of Your Mother. I am going to have to let someone else do it, though. I don’t repeat myself.

The Catholic Church has been going through a pretty rough stretch over the last few years. I say they should bet it all on one role of the dice, designed to either restore the church to its former glory, or cause it to disband for good. That roll of the dice? Two words: Pope Avitable.

Because I am an egotist and paranoid, I have several Google Alerts set up to let me know when anyone uses words like Mr. Fabulous, Fabby, or Pointless Drivel within the content of their blogs. There are a lot of people nowadays using “fabby” as an adjective. Cut it out. Seriously. I am a fucking noun, people. I am not, nor will I ever be, an adjective. Sure, I don’t really blog much anymore, but it’s the principal of the thing, damn it.

Have I missed blogging? Surprisingly, no. Not even a little bit. I still dabble a bit on my whore blog, but that’s mostly to earn money to support my Pez habit. I miss the radio show somewhat, as I enjoy talking and interacting with you guys, but BlogTalkRadio has pissed me off so much that I would never go back, and was thinking of ditching the program long before I actually did. Don’t get me started about the asshats at BTR.

So what have I been doing? I’ve been shopping the book around, trying to get an agent. I’ve been trying to find a job I like in the real world. I have been spending an inordinate amount of time on Facebook. And I have been keeping up with you guys as best I can. You folks lead some pretty interesting lives.

Oh, and I thought I had become a father with Angelina Jolie, but apparently that was Brad Pitt.

Okay, the guard is signalling that my time is up. I’ve enjoyed our little visit. Thanks for the cigarettes. Hopefully presenting them as gifts to the right people will keep me from getting shanked in the shower. Again.

I had a lot I was going to write here, but…fuck it.

If you’re new to this trainwreck, take a look through the archives. I used to be pretty funny.

I am going on out my own terms.

I’ve seen the terms “quitting” and “cowardly” mentioned in the comments. Wrong-O. I am not running away from anything. I am taking this opportunity to go on hiatus for many reasons. Among them:

1. I thought it might be a good idea to take some time and work on my marriage. Hmm? Hmmm?

2. I need to be less of a couch potato, and get in some kind of reasonable shape. I have been hearing rumors about something called “outdoors”. I plan to look into that.

3. I need to work out the logistics of nearly everything I own, including important papers, medical records, financial stuff, etc. still being up in Kentucky.

4. I need to get a job. Money is good. My actions have set us way back. I hear you can exchange money for goods and services. I like goods and services.

5. Remember the book? I would REALLY like to FINALLY polish it up and look for an agent. THAT will be my creative outlet for a while, until it is done.

6. I need time to deal with a load of guilt so massive that I am thinking about naming it.

I’ll be back with another humor blog. A smaller one.

Okay, now THIS has been the second to last post.

I have dibs on whatever taco salad Dave2 doesn’t finish.

Editor’s Note: Oh, and for the record? For those of you who think they are owed a complete explanation from me? Even though no explanation would satisfy you, and you would inevitably fall back on “Well, you shouldn’t have started down this path in the first place”?

Yeah. Suck my cock.

Editor’s Note 2: Thank you to all the kind souls who have emailed and facebooked and Twittered me with words of love, comfort, and support. I promise I will get back to all of you, but it may take a few days.

The villagers have assembled with pitchforks and torches. Can’t say as I blame them.

I’ve been doing a little reading. Harsh stuff. I deserve every bit of it, though.

Many people expressed unhappiness that the comments to the previous post were closed. The comments to this post are not. Want to take your pound of flesh? Go for it. Don’t say it on your blog, or on the radio, or couch it in subtle terms. Tell me to my face (kinda).

I won’t be answering the comments. Nor will I be providing any explanations. I don’t owe you any explanations. These events, regardless of how they have been played out prior to this, involve three people. And you are not one of them.

There will probably be one final post down the line, and then I’ll close this blog down for good. I had a good run, made some people laugh, I hope. I was bound to fuck it up eventually. I always do.

Batter up!

Hi, Shelli here. Fab is going to be away for several days. I know he said that this blog would be taking a break, but he is actually physically going to be away. He said that it means no computer and no cell phone. He wanted me to let you know. Please keep him in your thoughts and/or prayers. I will be.

I’m taking a break. From the blog and the radio show. I haven’t had time yet to notify my upcoming co-hosts, so if they are reading this before I get a chance to tell them, I apologize.

I am back in Gainesville. And I am back with Mrs. Fab. And we are taking some time.

I expect that when this blog resurfaces, if it does, it will be different. I am not going to be putting as much energy into blogging or radio anymore. Instead, I am going to focus on my home life and my writing.

I know this seems like a drastic change, after several other drastic changes. There have been tongues wagging all over the internet, I say, let them wag!

Fab, signing off for now. I’ll still be around to your blogs. I won’t be a stranger. You can’t get rid of me that easily.

I probably won’t be responding to comments on this post. If I was smarter, I would know how to close comments. But we all know that I’m not.