Fried-ay: Time Zones, NFL Gambling, and CBD…

Guys, guys, GUYS! It’s officially Friday, which means it’s Fried-ay, which means it’s time for me to embark on the first of a 16-hour marathon work day that will most likely result in me dive-bombing headfirst off the roof of my office building. If I can find a nice, clearly vacated patch of asphalt, I can hopefully dive at the perfect angle so that my neck immediately snaps in half and I can avoid doing laundry tomorrow.

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For those unfamiliar with what Fried-ay is, no problem. Every week, I make sure to inform everyone of what Fried-ay is, as well as what it could be. Fried-ay, as always, is a dip beneath the surface of tranquility, into the chaotic waters of antiquity. It could either be a longwinded sip of Caribbean Rum Punch on the shore of Costa Rica, or it could be a freshly purchased strip of sandpaper scraping across your receding gum line. Or it could just be a blog you read on the shitter every Friday to dilute the work day. Let’s get into it…

The NFL season finally kicked off last night and, as is tradition, I fell asleep by halftime. I’m one of the biggest NFL heads you’ll ever meet, but I’m also a semi-functioning adult who values sleep, which is why I’ve always argued against Eastern Time.

I understand networks need to pad their wallets, but putting key significant, season-altering games past 8 PM is criminal and I know I’m not alone on this one. It’s why people often suggest that Pacific Time is the best time zone to be a sports fan. Spoiler alert: those people are wrong. Central time is officially the best time zone to be a sports fan.

For those of you on the East coast, that means everything is an hour behind. So basically, instead of an 8:20 PM kick off, you’re looking at a 7:20 PM kickoff, which makes ALL the difference. I can leg out that last hour if I see light at the end of the tunnel. When I’m closing in on 10 PM and teams are just trotting out of the tunnel for the second half kickoff, I’m calling it, which is what I did last night.

Also, how awesome would it be to roll out of bed on Sunday, go for a run/shower/eat breakfast, and plop your ass on the couch just as Scott Hansen is serenading the masses with his velvety voice at the stroke of noon? That extra hour where I’m just pacing around my living room, trying to jack myself up for a 4 PM start before Redzone comes on can kick rocks.

Speaking of football season, I’ve been eating Ramen for the last week as a result of my crippling gambling addiction. Over the last few years, the NFL season has literally bent my bank account over in a way that would make Johnny Sins raise an eyebrow. Between three fantasy leagues, one suicide pool, and two pick’ em pools (one of which I’m running with an entirely foreign format), I’ve dedicated over half a pay check to the shield. It’s quite the commitment, but a commitment that pays dividends in the form of sweat beads trickling into a Gladware container of Nacho Cheese Doritos (better than Cool Ranch btw).

For the record, I have trouble sleeping. I always have. Over the past decade, it’s been difficult for me to hit the pillow and remain there for a solid 8 hours. I normally toss and turn in my “sleep,” waking 5-6 times a night for no God damn reason. It’s part of being a genius—your brain just doesn’t know when to shut itself down.

Anyway, I mentioned it the other day at work and someone suggested that CBD shit you seemingly see everywhere these days. My coworker even went as far to claim he “swears by it.” Anytime someone says that, regardless of how trustworthy they are, I always give them the benefit of the doubt.

On Wednesday, I dropped by the local gas station and bought a pack of those “great tasting” gummy bears. For those keeping score at home, they tasted like dead children lathered in expired barbecue sauce but listen to me when I tell you: they fucking WORK. I’m not even writing this to be funny or entertaining; I’m writing it as an endorsement. If you’re someone who struggles with sleep, you owe it to yourself to at least give it a shot. I’ve got more shit done over the last two days than I’ve gotten done in roughly two weeks and that’s not hyperbole. Just fucking try it…

– Joey Boats (@joey_boats)

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