This is a week of questions. Who are these enigmatic men and women known as the Bachelors? How do I get Nate Fox's phone number? Does it even matter who they're playing? What is that warm tingly feeling I get in my nethers whenever this team walks by? Where do they get those wonderful toys? How is it possible for such a concentration of talent, speed, athleticism, wit, charm, physical beauty, and excellent oral hygiene to exist on one kickball field without the entire park collapsing into a supermassive black hole of sexiness and kickball prowess?
We're back. Our star shines so bright that Relax has decided to take two weeks off to avoid having to watch our brilliance, lest they be blinded by it.
This week's opponent makes a poignant observation in their team name: it's not going to kick itself. You can all rest easy. We're gonna kick it for you.
For the record, I totally sent this in last Thursday.
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