OK, you’re a blithering asshole, now here’s a Coke and smile, now fuck off.;

I bet if she smiled more ...

Let’s just dismiss you. If you clutch those pearls any tighter you’ll turn them into dust you humorless soggy bag of non-fun.

That makes no sense, the Packers wear a different helmet with their throwbacks as do the Eagles. The Broncos wear a different helmet with throwbacks as do the Steelers. Unless that rule was changed last year or the year before — that’s the link, 2013 — that makes no sense.

My first instinct was the same, but I’ll take the bait. Sasha is all kinds of a salty biscuit and Malia, when she frowns, is allllllllllll grumpy cat, they could be twins!

Aren’t you forbidden from shellfish?

Dirty atheist.

That’s awesome, but I noticed you left out the part where he would also pack an airline-sized bottle of whiskey in there as well.

Oh come on, Easterbrook is a glory boy’s glory boy, what with his writing for big-time magazines and ESPN and stuff. Deadspin is all about grit and hard work and stupid lists and pooping stories and trenchant analysis and the insertion of random science facts into barely readable snippets of international soccer…

Yes.

The finger kiss at the beginning is simply brilliant.

Yup, as Ta-Nehisi Coates points out it’s a bit too late for the hand-wringers to call for calm and non-violence when the cops commit violence against the community every day and you don’t hear a fucking peep from the likes of stirge then. Funny that.

Or you could be the dumbass who completely forgot the game was on in the first place. Not saying that the you tube session wasn’t fun ... but ...

Step ball- used a tennis ball I would throw against some stairs

Of sweet motherfucking mother of assholes. Just ... there are no words, just anger.

It’s a pretty common name in Scotland. Their most famous soccer manager — Jock Stein, it’s just the Scottish version of Jack.

That’s a really good listing.

So you're saying Pellegrini should be wary of the fall of horses hooves he hears in the distance?

Now that’s a comment that harkens back to baseball’s golden days when the men who played the game knew how to properly respect the game. That rings with the sound of 1939 when baseball was as pure and white as freshly fallen snow.

No shit. Twice now, because of the complete and utter lack of offense, we have seen Phils games end in just 2:30.