Good Lord, did you just flash a doomsday prophecy about landlords leaving the apartment ownership business, consigning masses of renters to eviction and unit scarcity due to owners taking rental units off the market? And you’re really warning that the impetus for this drastic outcome will be—wait for it...—new…

C’mon, can you really call it horse racing if you can’t trade rawhide with another horse now and again?

God bless bingo cards in general for their ability to put stereotypes and lazy-ass tropes front and center. Ms. Eveleth’s example is possibly the best example of bingo card meme excellence I’ve ever seen.

Look, there is definitely a real incentive to adopt the system of measurements used by the rest of the globe (except for, what, Liberia and Burma/Myanmar?). Folks who oppose Metric adoption get that. But that’s all there is—peer pressure, and the lure of adopting the same system for ease of international…

...it’s finally time to reboot NBA Jam.

Squirm as the government stabs it with their steely knives.

No, Arnheim has a point. If Jackie Gleason had been lining up a winning shot in The Hustler, but lost to Paul Newman because he violated some carom rule from Korean bumper pool, it would have wrecked the scene. If Harry Potter had beaten Voldemort in their duel because the Dark Lord insisted on casting Avada Kedabra…

The bridge is on your jersies, then the bridge is your turf. That makes it fair game to be used in motivational material against you.

(phone rings)

Oh, shit!  Shitshitshitshitshit!  You’re 100% right.  I fucked that up, my bad.

Not a great, or even good player, certainly. And tweeting out a thinly-disguised gun threat against his old school definitely puts him in bad company as a human being.  

...Ezekiel Elliot, Dante Fowler, T.J. McDonald. I get your point.

That is...weird and unexpected.

To be fair, a tryout with the Gruden and Mayock Raiders, is that really a NFL job offer?

Remember what has happened here.

Bruno Mars is an adorable, pocket-sized, smooth-steppin’ Filipino charm bracelet of a singer, and you say unkind things about him at your peril. The arguably best Super Bowl halftime performer in history* deserves some damn respect.

My reaction to that bail amount, speaking as someone who spent a few days in lockup because I couldn’t make $63,000 bail for driving on expired tags:

Egads. Right there with you on the mansion thing. That sort of place needs high walls, patrolled by gunmen in suits and 1980s-influenced hairstyles.

Whoa, whoa, whoa... Say what?

The young people have it right: In this era, the most appropriate term for one’s emission is “skeet.”