I have spent way too much brain power debating what my item would be if I had to go on that show. I usually go with shoes or a knife, or definitely one of those butane kitchen lighters if they would allow it.

Whereas most ringtones will give up and go to voicemail after 30 seconds, Stingtones will ring nonstop for hours and hours until you're ready to pick up.

That's his "I'm about to swallow the Millennium Falcon" face.

Here's a drinking game: chug a beer every time Albert uses "chug" in this post.

I had to live in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan for three years, which is like living in a blizzard six months out of the year. I wouldn't have made it if the local establishments didn't have plentiful amounts of Bell's on tap. It really is one of the best breweries in America.

If they played the number of games from the strike season in the time frame of the standard season, I think that would be just about perfect.

Drew Gordon is clearly a vampire.

BOOM-GHAZI!

Not that I want anyone to die from Ebola, but I think the greatest tinfoil hat conspiracy ever would be if the Republican running against Hillary Clinton got Ebola during the election and had to drop out at the last minute. Alex Jones would explode on live television.

If only Fred McGriff had been on the team that year to help Alex Gonzalez with groundball drills.

If only he could have retracted most of his draft picks this easily.

He even has Wes Welker's eyes.

This clip is so good and it highlights how Jan Hooks and Phil Hartman could cram so much character into a three-to-five minute piece. Even when they played broad characters, they still added so much depth to them in their performances.

I Spit on Your Krave

Yup...these are my offers.

It is funny if you say it in the Lethal Weapon 2 villain voice: REGIONAL BIGOTRY!

If you think of the Midwest and the South as geographical buttcheeks, St. Louis would be the sphincter.

My younger brother once beat me by only taking threes with Brad Lohaus. He announced his intention to do so before the game. I picked the Bulls, but the little shit beat me by one. Twenty years later he still lords this over me.

Ha, that would have been very useful. Thankfully we're past the training and I'm not having any more kids.

The phrase "bed training" still makes me break out in a cold sweat and feel like a small child is tapping my arm to tell me she's had her fifth "bad dweem" of the night.