I fell asleep next to Mr. Husband, but when I woke up, I realized I had gone to bed with The Devil.

Tom Brady.

Just typing that name gives me the shakes. Not the Oooooh, He's So Cute! Shakes, but rather the I Don't Have Enough Sporks to Dull the Pain! Shakes. Right now, I hate myself.

A lot.

Yes, I drafted Tom Brady in one of my fantasy football leagues. I don't know what came over me when that moment of insanity seared through my blood, but this morning it hit me: I suck. Hard. I am now going to spend football season alternating between wishing for Brady to be crushed under a bloody pool of humanity and squeeing after he throws a touchdown.

I might have to punch myself in the face for squeeing after a touchdown. True story.

So, here's the plan: The Patriots are going to have this amazing high-scoring offense this year, but their defense is going to suck harder than a Dyson.

Shoosh. It could totally go down like that.