The small-batch spirit movement is getting out of hand.

You’re fastball is humming, kid.

Dunker: Hey man, is your name Marcello Mastrioanni?

Tim’s right. This is a cake BBC.

More like A-holes In The Outfield, amirite?

Pretty hardcore that she keeps the tombstones of all the competitors she’s destroyed right in her mouth like that.

+1

For anybody on a team owned by Jeffrey Luria, this is the only time of day they’re not constantly getting a faceful of shit.

Akilah did it best tho

MC: Welcome to the East Lansing High School Geography Bee. We’d like to welcome our guest judge, one of East Lansing’s favorite sons, Draymond Green.

Delly: Oy, look at the buns on that one, mate!

If ursine a contract with someone, you better be prepared to honor it.

Sansa’s wording is fairly obvious, even if it’s supposed to throw us off. The only reward for Baelish’s crude bumbling of selling Sansa to the Boltons is death. I presume we’ll see Ramsay die in a very unsatisfying manner, but then we’ll get a double shit sandwich when Sansa marries Baelish, but then kills him and…

Same as hell.

Tonight’s song selection makes up for it. Danced to it at our wedding and sang it to each of the kids every night of their lives at bedtime until they each finally got sick of it.

+1

What’s the best podcast going right now? (Obviously not the Deadcast due to Marchman food takes.)

From: Tiger

It's nice to see the ghost of Prince has already found his calling.

Dick Pound may pooh-pooh Zika in public, but behind closed doors he and the IOC are elated that there will be a whole new generation of pinheads across the globe for them to grift.