I started out with not really having much this week, but after apparently causing a stir with the “Look what Carlson’s become” blog, I figured I better write something so it doesn’t go to the next step, which would probably be death threats or getting cheese thrown at me.

So, just to say I wrote something, some random thoughts, I started punching the keyboard and it turned into this, which is more than 1,200 words. It becomes clearer every day of my life that I really do like to hear myself. Just saying.

========================================================

There’s not much that doesn’t come in a bottle that really gets me hooked quickly and craving for more. But I found one thing recently:

30 Rock.

For some reason a few weeks ago, I was flipping through Netflix looking for a new series to start and I saw the show. I had watched it once or twice early on when it first debuted and it was good, but I just didn’t stay with it.

Now, I’m addicted.

I’ve been working stupid hours at work and haven’t really watched any TV besides an occasional Iron Chef while drinking a beer and chilling at midnight. But 30 Rock is just killing me when I actually take the time to do nothing.

Today, I was off and had two options: pack, you know, since we’re fucking moving again, or sleep and watch Netflix. I did a couple boxes of the first and then three hours of the second. The show is hilarious. I don’t know where to even start, so you’ll just have to watch it for yourself.

Episode buster: The one where Tracy Jordan makes the porn video game, I think we all know how Frank feels.

========================================================

What’s with the weather? I mean, I don’t think that church dude who’s bad at math and was calling for the end of the world has anything to do with it, but it’s been freaky. All the blizzards and strange cold and snow streaks this past winter and now all the tornadoes and storms this spring?

Shit is getting crazy. It’s like someone is playing Sim City on us. I hope I can make it through to the big monster destroying Hollywood (sorry Dwin and vile Sheila).

Anywho, thoughts go out from Six-7 Offsuit blog to all those in Missouri and anyone else affected by this shit lately.

========================================================

“Remember that one Seinfield?”

How many times have you said that? It’s exactly what I said when I read this article on Time’s website about the changing likelihood of finding another planet that could support human-like life.

The first thing that popped into my mind was Bizzaro Jerry.

First, read this.

It’s a pretty strict set of requirements — but maybe not as strict as scientists have assumed. Two new studies, one purely theoretical and the other focused on a known exoplanet, suggest that planets that would on first blush seem too cold to harbor life may be balmier than expected. That means the habitable zone could be a lot wider, and the prospects for alien life more favorable, than anyone thought.

Okay, now think about that for a second.

There really could be a planet somewhere where there’s life. And if we take it a step farther, it could actually be human-like intelligent life. Extrapolate (nod to Mr. Johnson there) that a slight smidge farther and everyone’s exact opposite could be living a life that was yours but not. It’s like it’d be Bizzaro World, ala Seinfield.

Maybe we should be following the word of Larry David and Seifeld instead of that preacher dude. Whatever.

But seriously, why not? Why couldn’t there be a Bizzaro World with a Bizzaro Carlson (who can actually use punctuation) and a Bizzaro RJ (who really does exercise) and a Bizzaro Rush.

Wait. I don’t even want to know what that last one would be like.

But what do you think your life would be like in that world?

I’m sure sugar-mama would love it because I wouldn’t be such a jackass so much, wouldn’t drink as often and potentially might remember important dates, general trivia or really anything she said, and I’d know what her job entails.

While that’d probably help at home, I don’t know if I’d totally like this life because the Symposium wouldn’t exist. It’d probably be us getting together to do community service, not because we were told to by the court but because we wanted to freely give of our time.

There probably wouldn’t be any titties involved and neckshots would never have been created and … oh, no … please, please say it ain’t so … and, gasp, there wouldn’t be any beer consumed.

If that’s the case, if there is an alternate world exactly the same but opposite, then I only have one word for those who are searching for it:

Fuckthat.

========================================================

So I’m sure it will all work out in the end, but if the NFL and players don’t get their shit together, what are you doing to do on Sunday’s this fall?

Now, there might be a woman or two among the 12 offsuiters and growing Islamic sector who read this blog. And you may say, “Who cares? I’ll probably be glad I don’t have to turn that shit off the TV to get (insert name here, but probably mostly Aaron) to pay attention to me.”

And it’s plausible to think that’d be a nice benefit. But let’s just play this cruel game out in its entirety.

What if they don’t play? And let’s just say it stretches through into October or even November, and, dear Lord, the whole season gets scrapped?

There are literally 100s of hours that go into a football week for the normal male. And I’m only talking about for his fantasy football team. This does not include time spent thinking about what to eat before the game, what to eat and drinking during the game and what to eat and drink after the game.

There’s postgame analysis that needs to be done to prepare for free agent pickups and drops. You’ve gotta give proper time to consider trades and look at trends for the best value at each position to be able to swap. There’s picking on EdK on the message board (even if he doesn’t get it) and RJ too (who doesn’t get it either but we let him think he does).

And then there’s Monday and Tuesday, along with sometimes Wednesday and always Thursday and the occasional Friday before every single Saturday when you’re doing scouting. This won’t be affected, but it’ll add deliberations and stress if the lockout continues and the season doesn’t happen because then next year it’ll feel like we’re redrafting for two classes of rookies.

Oh, my. And that brings up another point that I hadn’t even thought about till now: what will we do if there’s nothing done before the end of August? Will there be a draft? Will this be the first non-draft August for the CCMP FFL, home of the Dan Bontjes Memorial Trophy, since 1990?

I don’t think I want to think about it. And for those of you who may think it’ll be nice to get us away from our fantasy football for a while, you shouldn’t think much about it either. Instead, you should be afraid. Be very afraid.