I have not done anything interesting in quite some time. Haven’t gone anywhere new, seen anything new, eaten anything new, read anything new. Or at least not new in a way that lends itself to this site.
I did go to a few new-to-me concerts, but that was five months ago now, and I haven’t finished writing them up. I will do it, I promise. I honestly just kinda forgot about it. I haven’t been to many shows lately, and most of them have been old favourites coming back around, so there hasn’t been much to say about them.
The only movie I’ve seen in the past six months that would count is Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid, which I liked, but couldn’t think of much to say about it beyond “I liked.” It’s the time of year where I say I’m going to watch all the Best Picture nominees and then don’t. The last four movies I’ve seen have been Christopher Guest’s Waiting for Guffman, Best in Show, A Mighty Wind, and For Your Consideration. The weakest one is still enjoyable and the best is an absolute classic, but all movies I’d seen before.
But I don’t want you to think I abandoned this site or died or anything, so I have to post something. Gay erotica it is.
What I knew
I had a whole big post about fantasy football about a year ago. It’s very long and while I do still like it, I understand that the four people who read this site may not want to reread the whole thing to get caught up to speed. All you really need to know is that I joined a fantasy football league with some wacky elements, I know nothing about the NFL or how fantasy football works, and I enjoy screwing with the league as a whole and a guy named Kyle in particular.
Also of importance: Kyle is not from Saskatchewan.
And yes, this isn’t technically an Actually Never. I ‘ve never done follow up posts on here because it doesn’t fit the theme of the blog and I don’t think they’d be that interesting anyway (Joni Mitchell’s Blue hooked me much more than my initial reaction would have suggested; Uncrustables are still good). So let’s call this a continuation. Which I already did, you saw the title.
What I know
The Teriyaki Football League was brought back for a second year (second in its current incarnation, anyway), and I was invited back for reasons I don’t entirely know. They were desperate to fill out the numbers, I guess.
You may recall that least year I did my best to draft exclusively Cleveland Browns. This year, I struggled to think of something else to do with my team. Ultimately, I never did, and it didn’t matter anyway, because I wound up missing the draft and so instead of an all-Browns team that would get killed every week, the auto-drafter picked me a middling team that would get killed every week. I don’t know if my original lineup is available anywhere and also I don’t care.
There were rule changes this year:
- You could keep up to 2 players from your previous year’s team in exchange for draft picks
- This meant nothing to me. I didn’t need to worry about other people sniping my good players as I had none.
- Every team started the year with A Favor
- This was very pleasing. A Favor is the best way to screw with Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan and/or the rest of the league but mostly Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan.
- There was another Envelope
- I voted to open it several weeks before the draft even took place. Obviously.
As I said, I missed the draft. My team, now officially renamed The All-Browns Ethnostate, earned a grade of D with a projected 4-11-0 record from the Yahoo! AI blurb writing thing. This would prove to be quite optimistic.
Like last year, PK wrote little blurbs about all the contestants. Here’s mine:
The All-Browns Ethnostate
THE MAN: You know James, from Saskatchewan. He lives in Regina, the city that rhymes with fun. His cat is a delight. He joined last year on the basis of having never played fantasy football, which he documented in one of his writing projects. Once managed to convince multiple people that Dean Malenko eats dogs, a story that I believe the man himself heard about. I may have hallucinated that last part.
THE HISTORY: We’ve had gimmick teams in this league before, but nobody ever had the bravery to draft nothing but Cleveland Browns before. Deshaun Watson as a first round draft pick is the sort of thing that gets everyone to stand and go “okay fucking WHAT” from anyone who actually takes fantasy football seriously. And then he died, and Cleveland was accidentally good for a couple of weeks, which meant he won a couple of games. At least, until the Envelope opened. Then he dropped to 1-13, and nobody cared, because it was the funniest team.
James is the reason the Envelope opened in the first place, having traded in his Favour to generate enough votes to force it open, which then caused Kyle (Not from Saskatchewan) to use HIS Favor to negate JAMES’ Favour, which led to the Taylor Swift Football Song Contest. A tribunal of Swifties liked his song better than Kyle’s, and all hell broke loose from there.
THIS YEAR’S DRAFT: James couldn’t be there in person, so he accidentally has a better team than he ever would’ve chosen on his own. But he’s got Dak Prescott and CeeDee Lamb, which is one of those combo bonus babies that has the potential to accidentally murder the hopes and dreams of others. To quote former Teriyaki player White Nick, “If you can’t play to win, play to annoy.”
James has a Favour to call in, and he has voted to Open The Envelope.
I don’t know if Dean Malenko ever heard about deanmalenkoeatsdogs.com. I know Konnan was told about it on a podcast and he had no idea what the host was on about but correctly surmised that whatever it was, it was very stupid.
Don’t look into any of that.
Before the first week was over, the first Favor was called in. Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, had requested… well, let’s let him tell it:
So I vote no on the envelope with such a fire within my soul that it ignites the very short fuse of my favor grenade. With the every surmounting geo political climate a constant dumpster fire of dumb right wing bullshit, my favor is as such I want to burn the envelope in glorious fashion, pile up some charcoal, drizzle the envelope and said charcoal with lighter fluid ( if need be i can provide those items, but it requires you PK to come to woodbridge, with the envelope, hell we can even make it a coffee date) and set the envelope on glorious fire (I even have pouches that can change the color of the fire for some mystical fun), we can even film the said burning of the envelope and play a buring related song.
I knew I needed to act fast.
I don’t think PK enjoys screwing with the league and especially Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan to the degree that I do. But he seems to enjoy it at least a little bit, as he posted a YouTube video of himself burning the Envelope, only to dramatically reveal the existence of two new Envelopes.
I won’t share the link here because you don’t need to see him face. Also it was technically it was two YouTube videos, which doesn’t matter at all, but accuracy is essential to reporting.
Kyle’s response:
Why James ????? WHY ??? I know mostly its revenge for last years favor that you decided to hit me with a UNO reverse card. I just wanted to have some simple Yaki shenanigans, rather than whatever coffee fueled, sleep deprived idea [PK]’s overly complicated filing cabinet brain cooked up. So well played for now. [PK] i hate your definition of “double reverse” technically means. Cause the way i see it, its while you burn the first envelope and since you can’t unburn it, you create another and then burn that one too, cause we all now [PK] thinks and while we love that this league helps us deal with the outside crazy world that maybe we just want some simple Yaki shenanigans
Regardless, Envelope The First was subsequently opened, revealing Bonus Points. Each team was awarded the same amount of Bonus Points, which you could apply to the scores of any game to maybe turn a loss into a win. However, you weren’t told how many Bonus Points were available – even PK didn’t know as he left that up to a friend of his – and if you went over, you would trigger Envelope The Second. It was implied that this would not be to your benefit.
You know what happened next.
And then what happened next:
PK’s friend Red asked for five (5) Bonus Points and that was also revealed to be TOO MANY POINTS even though five (5) Bonus Points ISN’T ACTUALLY THAT MANY POINTS considering the scoring system, so nobody else ever tried using their Bonus Points.
Our punishment awaited:
Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan and Feely (also not from Saskatchewan) sent in entries to earn bonus Favors. Red, dutifully, sent in an entry (by video, even) and was spared further punishment. And then there was my entry:
The Time I Went Too Far
by James, From Saskatchewan
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
K-A-R-S, Kars 4 Kids
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
Donate your car today
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
K-A-R-S, Kars 4 Kids
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
Donate your car today
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
K-A-R-S, Kars 4 Kids
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
Donate your car today
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
K-A-R-S, Kars 4 Kids
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
Donate your car today
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
K-A-R-S, Kars 4 Kids
1-877-Kars-4-Kids
Donate your car today
Enjoy your free points
I sawed this boat in half!
I didn’t hit 500 words. I didn’t even hit 500 characters. And I didn’t talk about A Time I Went Too Far, though arguably I Went Too Far in doing so.
I was now down an extra 100 points to every other team in every game. This affected nothing as I never even came close to winning even without this.
Funnily enough, I could have picked up a pair of wins. What I didn’t know was that Axe, a kind and generous soul, cashed in his Favor to give me all of the Bonus Points I’d originally asked for, minus one (1) Bonus Point so he’d get to keep his win over me. This Favor was granted. And with my 100-point penalties, it no longer helped.
My insubordinate refusal to properly participate in the essay contest would need to be avenged, and to do so, PK brought back The Thanksgiving Dolphin.
And, look. I know a lot of this is crazy. I am doing my best here. I cannot explain The Thanksgiving Dolphin to you. I know it comes from Teriyaki of old. That’s the best I got.
Speaking of returns from Teriyaki of old:
As of this writing, every player James from Saskatchewan has is now up for grabs. The Thanksgiving Dolphin will spirit the player away to your loving arms, to be replaced by a Cleveland Browns player of my choosing.
And since we’re bringing up past traumas, the way the Dolphin will be summoned is through everyone’s favorite mechanism.
THE RETURN OF THE EROTIC FANFIC CONTEST IS UPON YOU.
For the remainder of the 2025 NFL season, you may claim any player James from Saskatchewan currently possesses, so long as you write an erotic fanfiction about the player in question. The level of eroticism is entirely up to you. The level of detail is entirely up to you. The relevance to the player in question’s actual existence is entirely up to you. Name your player, cause yourself psychic damage, and the Dolphin Will Descend.
The definition of eroticism is, of course, a matter of interpretation. I am not demanding smut. I’m gonna say that again. I AM NOT DEMANDING SMUT. That said, if smut is your muse, then play on.
I was now 0-7 in the league. This doesn’t matter. I mention it here only to remind you that this post is about fantasy football.
Luckily (?), the threat of losing my players was an idle one. Jeff said it best:
The only player I lost – at least initially – was JK Dobbins. PK wrote a story about Dobbins being lured into the sea by a horned-up dolphin and eventually turning into a dolphin himself. Yes. Am I going to post the whole thing? No. Do you need an excerpt? You do.
He swam through the bay, his arms and legs carrying him until he failed to notice they didn’t exist anymore. His skin had turned gray and slippery. His nose had elongated. Flippers, fins, tails, those were his tools of the trade now.
And he wasn’t alone. The dolphin was right there alongside, swimming with him, reminding him that this was his truth, this was his reason. He wasn’t meant to walk along the ground, hitting A-Gaps, anything like that. He was meant to be Free. And now, with his love, who had a name that no human could ever hope to spell out (what do dolphins need of writing?), he knew he had all he needed now.
Hello love, his companion thought at him. It’s good to have you back.
“EE-EE-EE-EE-EE,” JK Dobbins replied.
To actually secure Dobbins from my team, PK’s erotica would have to be voted on by the players and deemed officially erotic. Or as he put it, “Dolphin-worthy.” I immediately voted in favour because I have Goals to achieve and winning fantasy football matchups is not among them.
Red wrote an erotic haiku to try and steal Travis Kelce from my team. Travis Kelce was not on my team. Travis Kelce was on Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan’s team. Also, a haiku seems like minimal effort. I voted in favour of it anyway. Or maybe specifically because of that.
Faced with this situation, PK cashed in his own Favor to open up the erotic fan fiction contest to all teams. Players could now be stolen from every team, and each steal would also result in me having one of my players replaced with a random Cleveland Brown. This is important to remember for later.
With the rule change, Jeff sent in a short story to try to steal a player I’ve never heard of from a team I can’t be bothered to look up. I voted in favour of it.
Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, called in his second Favor to say that no players who were marked as Keepers prior to the draft could be stolen in this contest, or as he described it, “an erotic snatch and grab.” Very good terminology on his part. But what he didn’t know as he was suggesting his rule change was that I was already hard at work. Literally?
Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan
starring in
A Bunch of Football Players All Having Sex With Each Other
Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, took to the podium. He felt butterflies in his stomach – had all day long – but knew that in order to be taken seriously as the leader he dreamed of being, he would have to project at least as much confidence as the presumably burly men in his audience. He steeled himself and prepared to speak.
“Who the fuck are you?” called out Tez Johnson, who I have just learned is a wide receiver.
“Um, haha, yes, right. Thank you all for coming here today. My name is Kyle, and as you probably know, I’m not from Saskatchewan.”
The assembled men did not laugh. They weren’t aware that Kyle was making a joking reference. They might have assumed as much, that Kyle was not from Saskatchewan, given that only one out of every six thousand, four hundred, and twenty-six people ARE from Saskatchewan – give or take – but they did not care about Saskatchewan, nor Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, nor their respective significance (or lack thereof).
“Um… right. Anyway. I’ve brought you all here today through means that I don’t need to explain because I have a fantasy football team, and you’re all on it.”
“Wait. Did you say fantasy football?” said a suddenly interested Alex Singleton, who as it turns out, is a linebacker and not the late writer and director of Boyz n the Hood.
“Yes!” beamed Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan.
“I hate fantasy football,” replied Singleton, “and I hate you.”
The other players laughed. Kyle involuntarily took a deep breath and looked down. This was not going as he’d hoped.
“Well, I like you, Alex. In fact, I like all of you. That’s why you’re on my team. But the sad fact is, we’re not doing so hot. Right now we’re 3 and 4. You’re great players, individually, but you’re not gelling as a team. And I think I know why.”
Kyle paused for dramatic effect.
Justice Hill, who I’ve never heard of before but who has a pretty badass name, not quite an A+ but certainly among the better names you’ll hear this week, broke the silence.
“Is it because we didn’t know we were on a team until just now, and have never practiced together, or even all been in the same place together, and we actually all play for different teams, which is going to make working together to meet your goals an impossibility?”
“That’s not NOT it,” said Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, mistakenly believing that Justice Hill – again, good name – was interested in a dialogue. “But in my mind, that’s, like, 5% of it. The real reason it’s not working out is because you really need to connect as teammates. You need to bond. And that’s why you’re here. To have sex with each other.”
Travis Kelce, a football player I definitely know of for football-related reasons, looked up from the bowl of cereal that had been occupying his attention since he’d arrived at this sex dungeon. Surprise! The players and of course Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan have been in a sex dungeon this whole time. One with a podium and a remarkably well-stocked cereal pantry that Kelce had immediately helped himself to.
“Let me get this straight,” Kelce said, stray milk dribbling erotically and wetly from his bearded chin. “We’re all here because you want us all to… make love?”
“Yes. To be very clear about what’s happening right now, my name is Kyle, I’m not from Saskatchewan, and I spared no expense to bring every football player from my middling fantasy team to my favourite sex dungeon in hopes that a massive orgy will turn our fortunes around.”
“Fuckin’ FINALLY,” said Kelce, tossing his cereal bowl to the side and tearing off whatever it is that Travis Kelce would wear, probably a shirt and some pants and underwear or something.
“Hell yeah, let’s do this,” said Matt Gay, whose name I am pleased to not be making up. “I’m 100% on board – like I always say, ‘Gay’ is my middle name. Metaphorically. And also it’s my very convenient actual real-life last name.”
“Speaking of convenient actual real-life last names…” Matthew Palmer elected not to finish his sentence, instead standing up, quickly disrobing in an erotic and sexful fashion, and thoughtfully cranking hog.
Another player approached him, dong out.
“Hey Palmer, got a free hand? My name is Jack Campbell and I definitely think you should. Jack Campbell, I mean. I’m Campbell. And you should jack me. Off. With your hand. On my dong. Which is out.”
Of course, Palmer was helpless to resist because Campbell was being quite erotic and so he found himself cranking not one hog, but two.
“I’m definitely all in for sexy sex for the benefit of fantasy football, but I’m a little concerned about this apt name talk,” said Jalen Hurts, obviously.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” said Chase McLaughin, hornily caressing Hurts’ large or small or possibly average-sized posterior.
Hurts gulped. “What are you going to do to me?”
“My name is Chase McLaughlin-“ and let me just interrupt for a second because I guess I didn’t need to mention his name before. These football players are really good about introducing themselves to each other with their full names before or during spontaneous acts of carnal pleasure.
Anyway, where were we? Oh right. “My name is Chase McLaughlin, and I’m here to place m’cock in. To your butt. In a gentle but strong way that will bring sensual satisfaction to both of us as well as anyone who may happen to read of our transpirings.”
Hurts thought the wordplay was a bit of a stretch but still dropped to all fours, and soon was feeling a bit of a stretch of his own as McLaughlin did erotic thrusts in a way that got Travis Kelce almost as turned on as you are right now.
“I’m a tight end,” said Kelce, “who wants to give me a tush push?” Tez Johnson and also his johnson didn’t need to be asked twice, and the two began copulating in a way that would surely make them better at scoring touchdowns or stopping others from doing so.
Talanoa Hufanga (#9), Xavier McKinney (#29), and Darious Williams (#31) were all wearing their football jerseys and nothing else, by which I mean their dingdongs and ballsacks were exposed in a way that was very enticing. Tucker Kraft approached with a calculator he’d borrowed from the reception desk of the sex dungeon. Coincidentally, the only three players there in jerseys wore numbers that added up to 69. The three men high-fived each other and prepared to go to town on each others areas, orally. However, Kraft pointed out that a true 69 can only be between two people. He drew a diagram. Several, in fact. Eventually, Hufanga, McKinney, and Williams tied Kraft in sex dungeon restraints and proceeded to gobble each others’ knobs while Kraft could only watch, which was what he’d secretly been after all along.
Then Saquon Barkley pulled his nuts out and someone said “look at the sack on Barkley!” and everyone had a good laugh about that one. Erotically.
Soon, everyone there was slurping and boning, stroking and grinding, spitting and humping. Balls were gargled, balls were drained. One guy was really into feet, let’s say it was Bobby Wagner. All of this was sweatily taking place under the watchful eye of Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, who was sipping on a Gatorade Frost Glacier Cherry as his plan came to fruition.
All throughout the sex dungeon, boner-inducing eroticism was taking place. Jaylin Lane, who is a wide receiver, was wide and receiving (a big wiener and eventually a hot load) from Cameron Hayward. Kimani Vidal found himself double stuffed like an Oreo except not like an Oreo at all because he was actually stuffed with penises, taking Zach Ertz from the front and Sam Darnold from behind. Josh Downs and Josh Hines-Allen had bonded over their shared first names and were tenderly slamming on a Mongolian fuck table. And those other guys I mentioned earlier, Alex Singleton and Justice Hill and of course Matt Gay, can’t forget about him, they were doing it (sex) with each other too.
Meanwhile, the Kansas City and Washington defenses which consist of multiple players, too many to name but we all know who they are, they had a human centipede type situation going on. I mean, they weren’t sewn together and nobody was pooping, that would be gross and also against the second rule of the sex dungeon (“No pooping”). Though to be fair, the first rule of the sex dungeon had already been violated (“Cereal is free for members only”) and Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, would later be mildly annoyed to find a $13 surcharge tacked onto his monthly sex dungeon fees.
But that would be a problem for Future Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan. Present Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, was happy. As the sex dungeon echoed with moans and grunts and this one weird noise that kinda sounded like a duck but not exactly, Kyle was proud of his team. These were true professionals. By god, they were MEN. His men. And they were all going to win at pretend football because they fucked so good.
My erotica was quickly declared Dolphin-worthy. This goes right along with any Moment I’ve ever had or ever will have. So Thankful, So Grateful, So Humbled.
It could only be topped by a story in which I was topped. Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, attempted to save his team by responding with The Canadian Thanksgiving Gangbang. I will not share it here. It was very… explicit. Let’s go with that. Explicit and detailed. I’ll get you a copy if you want it.
It also involved Tim Horton’s coffee, the existence of which I have come to believe is the only thing Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan actually knows about Canada. I voted in favour of this story.
A month went by. I did not get Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan’s players. I will not dox PK too badly, except to say that he is 1. American and 2. has a politics-adjacent job and that can be A Lot. Hard to remember a time when that wasn’t A Lot. I will reserve my Opinions for the moment. You know them anyway. Let’s just agree it’s been A Lot.
PK’s schedule wasn’t the only issue. As mentioned, every player stolen via erotica from any team was also to result in me having one of my players replaced with a Cleveland Brown. How exactly would this work if I’m doing the stealing? I steal all of Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan’s players via erotica, I get them all replaced with Cleveland Browns, and Kyle, Not From Saskatchewan, re-selects all his players? Or do I get a team full of Browns first, and then he gets those? But then in doing so, wouldn’t the rules suggest I need to get another full complement of Browns? It’s quite the paradox. Erotic paradox. Paradix. (no)
I talked to PK. He was unsure how to proceed. So I did it for him. I waived my entire team and picked up every available Cleveland Brown, along with a few players named Brown to fill in where needed. And two random defenses; one works with what one has available. This brought my record from 0-13-0 to a perfect 0-15-0.
For the second straight year, The Cubs Fan won the league. I haven’t mentioned him until now because he ignored absolutely all of this. There’s probably something to be learned from that.
Oh well, there’s always next year. I’ve already been spitballing Favor ideas.
Actually Never 
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