Swami's NFL Pool 2018: The Root of the Tuesday Taunt of the Week XVII

January 2, 2011

The Root of the Tuesday Taunt of the Week XVII

For those who remain, and following this Week Seventeen there are now only nine of you, it would behoove you to pay attention to the blog throughout the playoffs. This is where you will get the fastest updates of goings on with our glorious Suicide Pool.

An update such as follows, which informs of the demise of both Mumsy and Mr. Incredible, who perished along with the playoff hopes of the St. Louis Rams, and the survival of the other nine remaining participants, including our two undefeateds. The Colts, Texans, Giants, and 49ers were the victorious squads. In other words, in Tuesday Taunt format, we have 143 participants, 2 undefeated, 7 with one loss, and 134 dead.

Check back this week for more information on the coming playoff run, which I will also touch upon in the update email, but for now let me wish all of you, those living and those deceased, a very Happy New Year.

That is all.

Introducing . . .

. . . Ze German, a frothy, filthy, unfiltered 'Skins-lover bringing you weekly rants from his tapestry-laden castle high upon the Zugspitze peak. There is wisdom and method to his madness, however, so pay attention -- just look out for the women and children.

. . . The Holy Light, and the best of us, a beacon of strength, dignity, and truth, and shining where there is darkness. As it was in Ezekiel, his word is his bond and his name is the law, and he shall strike down those who dare not listen when he doth speak.

. . . The Hooded Fiend, brilliant, diabolical, devious -- the smartest man you've never met, and will never have the chance. Locked away in the dungeons below a nondescript building, we only bring the Fiend out to post when the situation is most dire.

. . . El Doctor, the tall, dark, hunky, and handsome resident surgeon of Suicide. Women love his strong hands, men respect his keen mind, and Swami requires his wicked wit, but no one understands his almost unholy passion for autos and linen pants.

. . . Man of Wench, that staunch fan of all things Philly and a fine specimen of masculinity, bold enough to tie the knot with the feisty, infamous Wench. Whether at the grill or at the bar, with a healthy glass of vino in his hand he'll bill you by the hour for a taste of his good times.

. . . Master of Macabre, a delightfully sinful and sinister purveyor of doom and gloom, keeper of all things dark and deathly. It is unsure what horrifies more: his spectral air, his cadaverous crypt, his Machiavellian machinations, or his penchant for Princess and the Frog.

. . . Shapeshifter, he of the ever-changing ways, ever-shifting forms, and everlasting enthusiasm. Our newest commentator brings forth pomp, verbosity, and circumstance on scale to rival even the Swami himself. Shifty, yes, and subtle when necessary, his form is never out of fashion.