We’ve held a few fantasy drafts the past month or so, and if there was a recurring theme to all of our draft events, it was this:
Everyone hates you, Lee Evans.
Oh, how we loooooathe you. No one wanted to draft you, and once you finally fell to the double digit rounds, the person who drafted you inevitably picked you thusly:
“God dammit. I guess I’ll the asshole that takes Lee Evans.”
Follow that with a wistful sigh and you get the picture. Such was our disgust that we didn’t even draft the receivers above and below your name on the draft board, for fear of your shittiness being a contagion, a new strain of execrable awfulness. We couldn’t even say your name without feeling violently ill, like a spoiled child having to say, “I’m sorry”. You bring out the worst in us. Because you ARE the worst of us.
The world is fed up with you, Lee Evans. We, the collective people of Earth, have really had enough of your glaring inconsistency, your ability to have one monster game at the precise moment you have been benched, and the way you manage to not only suck the other weeks, but how you manage to be practically invisible while you are sucking. The average receiver having a shitty game means 3 catches for 40 yards or something like that. But that is a fucking festival of production next to your off days.
We are traumatized. By you. Your play is like rape.
You are shit. We do not mean to be rude. But it’s true. You are a cold dribble of liquid, rancid doodoo. You make regular shit smell like strawberry ice cream. You are a pile of week-old shit covered in brown piss and then doused with tar. You are diseased and horrible. You are not only a terrible receiver, but you are also a terrible person, largely because you are a terrible receiver.
No one likes you, Lee Evans. Everyone hates you and wishes you nothing but ill fortune and misery. If anyone says hi to you on the street, it’s because that’s the only thing they can say to you without wanting to jump on top of you and stomp the life out of your body while screaming YOU FUCKING BUST!!! DON’T YOU REALIZE I HAVE MONEY INVESTED IN YOU, YOU FUCKING CHEESE-EATING COCK?!
You may think people are being nice to you, but rest assured, when your back is turned, we the people, all 6.6 billion of us, are secretly plotting your final hours. We even have a name for your demise: “THE EVANS RESOLUTION.” We haven’t figured out exactly how it will play out. We may throw you into a steep gorge. Or we may all sneak up behind you and choke you with a tire iron. We don’t know. You don’t know. But it will happen. Oh, yes it will. Because we do not like you. At all. We’ve all agreed on THAT, to be certain.
Maybe you should move somewhere far away, with lots of remote jungles and caves with stalactites. That might be best for everyone, Lee Evans. Because the world hates you. Many people say global warming is caused by carbon dioxide. It is not. It is caused by the burning, white-hot rages your pathetic visage ignites in all of us. That’s right. You suck so fucking bad, you killed the polar bears.
You are a murderer.
In conclusion, get fucked.