No one can escape news coming out of the NFL lately. Ray Rice, Adrian Peterson, Greg Hardy and now, the guy from the Cardinals. Ugh! Then Reggie Bush weighed in on “disciplining” his baby. I can’t take anymore. I didn’t watch Goodell’s news conference live on Friday. I just heard some soundbites. Domestic violence and child abuse are despicable and I have a million opinions on all of this, but I won’t bore you with them here.

Football is supposed to be fun. It’s an American tradition. Yeah, I get how football perpetuates hypermasculinity and misogynistic behavior with violent hits while showing women as sex objects on the sidelines. I worry repeated concussions lead to mental illness and suicide for players. I don’t love any of that but, like most Americans,  I guiltily am able to overlook it because of all the good football brings to our lives and that’s why we watch it and sometimes gamble on it, which we can do in this online casino australia as well.

Football games bring everyone together. Everyone in the United States can pick one of 32 NFL teams to call their own. When you see another fan in your colors, you instantly have a connection. Tailgating. Food. Jerseys. Playoffs. Superbowl. Being a fan is fun. I’m speaking of professional football in this instance, but the same goes for college football.

With our friends this season, we have decided to forget this crap and have fun. We have launched our Fantasy Football league “Panda-monium.” I’m not exactly clear as to why we’re called that. I think it’s some sex act or position one of our friends came up with during a game of “Cards Against Humanity.” I know I’m not the only one with pervy friends.

Channeling our inner “Shivas” from the FXX show “The League” we have developed weekly head-to-head bets and we’ll have a trophy named “Karen” after this girl we despicably enjoy making fun of. We’ll see you in hell.

My friends came up with names of teams after two of my favorite shows. “House of Yards” and “Orange is the New Sack.” Dang! Those names are amazing! Parents of preschoolers will understand my team name. In honor of my first year as a Stay-At-Home-Mom, I had to do a kid reference. Yep. I’m “Wandering Oaken’s Goalpost.” Get it? Parents of preschoolers will.

Weekly bets range from loser making their most embarrassing childhood photo their Facebook profile pic for a week, to a guy washing another guy’s car while wearing a bikini top, to the cinnamon challenge.

I have lost twice already. My Week 1 bet was against my friend Sam who wears an A cup bra. I wear a D. (DD actually, since I’m breastfeeding.) Loser had to wear the other’s bra for an entire day. I had to squish my big ole’ milk boobs into her tiny bikini top. I suspect she gave me the bikini because bras are expensive. It was wildly uncomfortable. You have to have photo or video evidence of each week’s bet fulfillment. This was what I sent to the league.

Perhaps my husband had it the worst when he had to suck on the belly of the other guy’s dog because he lost. I snickered as he picked dog hair out of his mouth that afternoon.

Screw the NFL and their drama. As fans we’re going to have fun regardless, even if it’s the football of our fantasies.