My face won't stop itching

Hey, I’m back!

I’ve been gone a while, I know, and I apologize. But I took a cruise on my vacation and got marooned off the coast of Tanzania and spent nearly six weeks living with the natives before being rescued –- though I guess "rescued" isn’t the right term, since I enjoyed my time there. None of the women wear shirts! Not a one! Can you believe it?

Here’s my rock-solid analysis for Week Eleven.

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Blaine Browns: 164 points
Cellar Dwellers: 124.50 points

Game summary: Someone finally showed up to play against Cellar Dwellers. And that someone had some new toys in his wagon. CD still had a good week, but was hurt by the karma of the Jake Delhomme decision and the fact he still lugs around five defenders. But plain and simple, BB was fantastic.

Blaine Browns (6-5): Drew Wolf. Drew Brees. Both had good weeks. Chris Brown not only gives BB a good starting back, it allows him to play the matchup game. He did that this week, parking Curtis Martin on the bench against Denver’s defense. And of course, Chris Brown went to college in Colorado. Denver is in Colorado. I think you can see where I’m going with my little factoid roll here. Huh? What did I just say? I’m wasted. Balls!

Cellar Dwellers (9-2): Stem, I know you’re a Lions fan (you probably like silver stretch pants, just like me), but starting Jake Delhomme against that Bears defense is indefensible. Absolutely inexcusable. Especially when the other option was Byron Leftwich against the awful, awful Titans. Worst idea since that one evening back in 1978 when I drank a fifth of Jose Cuervo, put on a pink bunny suit and then let Roger Staubach stick me in the clothes dryer in his basement for 15 minutes. What a mess that was.

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Madd Skillz: 152.75 points
Big Fat Guys: 88.75 points

Game summary: This game was over faster than my date with Jennifer Aniston at Club 57 after she and Brad split up. Any woman who doesn’t like wiggling her toes in a bucket of tartar sauce while she gives me backs rubs is a woman I don’t want to waste my time on.

Madd Skillz (9-2): He’s never, ever going to lose again. You have John Clayton’s word.

Big Fat Guys (4-7): Lost to a team with two of the three best running backs in the league, two of the top three receivers and a top-3 quarterback. Not really his fault, but the reality is that his playoff hopes have dried up. They’ll probably start to chafe soon –- come see me after the recap, Baron. I’ve got a cream for that.

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Who is Ron Mexico?: 94.75 points
Sex Panther: 98.75 points

Game summary: This is the first "ugly win" of the year for SP, and just another in a long line of losses for WiRM. No opponent has scored fewer than 92 points all year against Sexy Panther and the trend continued here. Sex Panther is easier to score on than Nicole Ritchie after seven Keystones, five shots of Bacardi 151, two vodka tonics, six bong hits, a drop of acid and nine ounces of Nyquil.

Who is Ron Mexico? (2-9): Dave Tomke called Eli Sunday afternoon and told him "I’m going to beat you again." Then he posted the same thing on his smack talk. Then, for no reason, he bragged about it with an announcement on this media outlet. Then Samkon Gado sucked on Monday night and Tomke lost. Shut the hell up, Dave.

Sex Panther (6-5): I’ve thought long and hard about a proper analogy for Sex Panther’s season, and here is what I’ve come up with. Sex Panther’s season is like putting on your best duds (cowboy boots, yellow Bike shorts and a fur-lined leather jacket for me) and heading off to a hott Cali party. Upon arriving at the party, you are hailed by everyone in attendance as looking great. Hell, you look in the mirror and you think you look great. You feel good. The amyls help, of course. Then you are told that you can achieve the ultimate goal – you hear that Jessica Alba wants to sleep with you. Bingo! Naturally, you’re stirred up and excited. You look around for her all night and are always caught up by someone else ... though you exchange several glances. It’s getting late. You start to panic. But then suddenly, without knowing exactly what happened, it’s 3:45 a.m. and you’re lying on the floor of dimly-lit room with your hands bound behind your head and Star Jones sitting on your face. That’s Sex Panther’s season.

Oh ... Sex Panther actually won? I see. Well, in that case, you have the answer to what I did this past weekend.

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The Octagon: 127.50 points
Fred Lane’s Wife: 100 points

Game summary: This was a big game here, and it seemed to be overlooked a bit. Two 5-5 teams trying to rise up out of the mess, with major playoff implications. Despite Manning’s torching of the Ben-gals (mmmmm), The Octagon came out on top by a comfortable margin.

The Octagon (6-5): While the league is all aflutter with trade discussions, does anyone remember that WiRM traded Mike Anderson to JR for a bagel? Anderson has just been huge the last four weeks – and with Tatum Bell gimpy, his role could expand even further. Cadillac also got motoring a bit, which has to make JR smile. Or pee all over his living room.

Fred Lane’s Wife (5-6): A tough loss, one that featured several subpar performances (Joey Galloway, hello). The loss drops them behind 6-5 teams, so the road to the playoffs will be uphill and curvy and bendy and gravelly and treacherous. Fred Lane’s Wife is wonderful, and needs to be ready for action this weekend. Fred Lane’s Wife, on the other hand, has some definite dirty work ahead.

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ChamPeons: 70.50 points
Father Abraham: 67 points

Game summary: It seems there’s always one awful, horrifying matchup like this every weekend. Last week it was Dennis Franz and Rosanne Barr. The week before, I saw Dennis Rodman and Diane Keaton get down. Now, ChamPeons and Father Abraham hook up … and the results are similar.

ChamPeons (5-6): ChamPeons, propelled by Terrell Owens’ huge week, notches the victory over the reeling Father Abraham squad.

Father Abraham (3-8): Not that he wants it, but Lincoln has my sympathy. Priest Holmes is gone. Donovan McNabb is gone. Jamal Lewis is suddenly the worst starting running back in the league. And his two keeper WRs haven’t performed anywhere near the level they were expected to. There just isn’t much he could have done after a promising start. Sad.

And when you’re sad, there’s only one thing to do: Soak an old sweatshirt with ether and huff away. Let the good times roll! See ya’ll later.