Monday, March 22, 2010

Top Ten Rules for Fantasy Football

Although the NFL season is far away, it's never too early to teach the women in our lives common fantasy football etiquette. Due to the success of the Beer Goggle's Top Ten, I decided to create a Top Ten list for fantasy football. Enjoy.

10. If you draft Adrian Peterson with the first pick, you are not a fantasy football genius. Rather, you are an asshole who got lucky.

9. Sunday's are off limits. Don't even ask.

8. If you stand in front of the TV during a game, something is getting thrown at your head.

7. A fantasy leaguer who is wearing a thong and a Redskins' jersey isn't gay. He just lost a bet.

6. Life might suck, but for 20 weeks in the fall we have something to live for.

5. Did I say Sundays' are off limits yet. Get a babysitter already. I hear there are some good ones on Craig's List.

4. Picked Payton Manning for your QB? Creative. Original. Fuck you, I got Jay Cutler.

3. If you come to a fantasy party, bring something besides your fat ass. Nobody likes that guy.

2. Bret Farve is an asshole. Don't ask questions. He is.

1. Yes, fantasy football players are considered to be athletes.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Things that Annoy Giff

Sometimes I hate these things...

25. People who wear Affliction shirts.

24. People who like people who wear Affliction shirts.

23. Bills. I can't pay them so stop calling me. Wrong number.

22. Lottery tickets that aren't winners.

21. Girls who only have three fingers.

20. People who only drink Starbucks coffee.

19. Milfs with morals.

18. Commercials for Extendz. I got the message.

17. Red lights when I'm late to work. Green lights when I'm trying to eat a hot pocket.

16. Karate Kid sequels. There is only one Danny Larusso

15. Ex-Girlfriends. Yeah, I was an abusive drunk asshole, but guess what, now I can watch porno whenever I want.

14. People with perfect teeth. Isn't it time yellow, crooked teeth were in?

13. Fat rolls and tight holter tops.

12. Big trucks and insecure guys.

11. Girls with a strong tolerance to roofies.

10. Fanny packs.

9. Little people. Not midgets. Little people.

8. Ugly babies.

7. Whitey tightys with pee stains.

6. My back account with .27 cents.

5. White Crayons.

4. Homeowners.

3. Carrie Underwood getting engaged.

2. Cracks in the sidewalk.

1. Manicans that don't have heads.

3's and 9's: A Simple Game, A Serious Addiction

Well since I am claiming that the 39er is a blog for the seriously addicted gambler, I guess it's about time I explained the rules of three's and nine's. This game is no joke and is not intended for happily married couples, successful businessmen, or other members of society that have their shit together. You don't play three's and nine's, three's and nine's plays you. Here's the rules. You can play 3's and 9's with as many people as you'd like but small groups are encouraged. Each member of the group is given three cards first. The object is to make the best three card hand possible and 3's and 9's are wild. This is not like Hold 'em. There are no flushes or straights, just pairs and trips. After you check your cards out first, you have the option to discard up to three cards and take from the deck up to three to try to improve you hand. This process goes around the whole table. At this point you can fold or play. Toss your cards to fold, tap the table to play. Now either two scenarios are going to happen.

1. Everyone folds and one taps. In this case, the player will play the dealer. Player one discards as many cards as needed once. The dealer gets three cards. If he like what he sees, the dealer can stay or draw up to three more cards. If player one has the better hand, he takes the pot. If the dealer does, player one matches the pot and another game begins.

2. Two or more people tap. It's on now. In this case, all players are allowed to discard up to three and take up to three if they wish. Whoever gets the best three card hand gets the pot. Then, the rest of the players have to match the pot and another game begins.


What do plates have to do with cards? Well, a lot actually. You see sometimes our more addicted 39ers don't know how to say no. "200 dollar hand looks good to me," says the gambling freak. Only problem is they don't have the money to back it up. The have a pair of aces and a 7 of spades going against the dealer when...3-9-3 gets slammed down on the table. "Holy shit! That was my baby momma's diaper money!" they say. Too bad. You see, if you can't cover your debts in a 39ers house you are fucked. First, your name and the amount of your debt is written on a paper plate and then pinned on the wall. And not just any wall. It's a wall of embarrassment. One 39er has pictures of him cuddling a gay, having sex with a fat ass girl, and doggy styling a donkey.

So what's the point. Don't lose without money in your pocket because there is always a place for you on the wall.

And that's three's and nine's.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

Baseball and Fish

Baseball and Fish. These are the things that Giff thinks about when on the rare occasion he has sex with a really hot chick. It's almost like a game. How can I keep her from going too far and too fast. Change the subject? Fake a leg cramp? Unfortunately, that's never how it goes. Now everyone knows that I've slept with many creatures before (if not refer back to the beer goggles list), but it's not quite known how many decent chicks I've pleasured before. It's like five, and they were all hot. Last night, I was put in quite the pickle. I went on a date with a smoking hot girl who was way out of my league in the looks department. I looked like total white trash because I had been partying on Greenville Ave. all day for St. Patty's. She didn't care. Things looked good for the Giff. We went to a douche infested playground for Dallas' most socially retarded bitches called Uptown. Yeah! I walked into the first bar of the night and I was hated on immediately. "Oh my god, Becky, look at that girl with that homeless guy!" said some random Uptown whore. Sidebar. I hate Uptown. And when I say hate I mean if I owned a grenade launcher, It would never have enough ammo. Anyway, back to the story. Hot chick and I bounce around from bar to bar. By 1am she's Nicole Ritchie'd. Any serial rapist would agree that this was a good thing. The last bar we went to was covered in pigs, 5-0, the heat, the fuzz. I thought to myself as this girl stumbled in her high heels, "Please God don't cause a scene." First thing old girl does? "Whaz you mean me too drank to getz in? Fuk dis bar!" Right in front of the whole Dallas PD. Special Officer Duffy approached quickly to impress the rest of the boys who blew and in his most inbred voice said "Ma'am your going to want to leave right now!" Scary. Boo! I have a GED and a fetish for gay handlebar mustaches. I grabbed her arm and left for the crib.

3:00am arrive at home--she's passed out so I contemplate leaving her in my truck, but she looked uncomfortable. I felt bad so I carried her to my bed.

3:05am--I'm so tired that I just try to go to sleep. She says she's cold and wraps her arms around me. I achieve a miniature boner.

3:07am--For some reason she said she was cold but started to undress. Heart pounds. I don't get girls like this anymore. "What do I do?" Achieve 1 more inch on my boner.

3:09am--She's going down on me! Baseball and fish time. It's starts to feel real good real fast. "Okay, I got this. Baseball and fish." Who did the Ranger's sign this year? Any new pitchers? We need new...pitch..oh fuck this is getting harder.

3:09:05 am--Fucking baseball inner dialogue you never work. Okay fine. Fishing. That will take me away. I wonder if I can catch another bass at Harry Myer's park again. It's my favorite hole. Wait, I just said favorite hole. Fucking fishing inner dialogue.

3:09:10 am--Okay, she stops going down on me and all I can think about is how my baseball and fishing idea is totally fucking me now. She's hot, naked, and ready to screw me like I was Ron Jeremy. Except, one minor detail. I'm not Ron Jeremy, I'm Giff Feltcher. I lay on my back and in slow motion the tan model with double d's gets on and starts riding hard. Baseball and Fish. Baseball and Fish! Fucking baseball and fish. BASEBALL AND FISH!!! BASE...BALL...AND...FISH!!!!!!

3:10am--Laughter. And not the good kind. She literally pointed at me and laughed.

3:11am--Got inspiration for the most bad ass blog ever!

Happy St. Patty's Day 39er's!!!

Tuesday, March 9, 2010

A Secret Society is Born

For those of you already in the 39er's, greetings once more. For the rest of the world, get ready to indulge in a lifestyle that only few straight men dare to live. From the middle-aged has-beens that bleed 3's and 9's, to the countless women who wonder where our next game will be, this page is for you. You want to be a 39er? Think again. Easy Times Whiskey, Black and Mild, Milds, and only the finest convenient store wines are what we are about. Have a gambling problem? Prove it. I know a 39er who has 13 glory holes smoking three nights a week to support his habit. Another 39er just left his wife...his WIFE! Another 39er who refuses to keep a job, sleeps in until the wee hours of the afternoon only to be awaken to play cards. However, one 39er lets his girlfriend keep his balls in a man purse and plays only when it's "healthy" for they're relationship. To her I say F you crazy bitch. You see, being a 39er is not about responsibilities or even obeying the law, it's about chances. It's about the love of not only a card game but the love of a new life. To all my 39er brothers past and present, this one's for you.