I look forward to losing a small portion of a $35 billion bank account one day.

Harvard’s board of overseers, who give the administration its marching orders, consists mostly of bank execs, superstar faculty from other universities, and federal judges. In other words, people who have either guaranteed lifetime employment or several lives’ worth of fuck-you money. No surprise, then, that they…

I work abroad. I’ve hired half a dozen Harvard Law grads for summer internships. Incidentally, I’ve had half a dozen terrible summers.

The Jets are a disaster.

As a Jets fan, the only comfort I have is that I’m not a Browns fan.

I’m just here for a Kluwe comment.

The republicans here have trouble from time to time finding anyone to run for some offices. They will be happy to have a well-known name go on the suicide mission against Warren. But it will be interesting to see our moderate Republican governor, Baker, who was an early never-Trump, deal with a Schilling campaign.

Lost in all the discussion of why NFL ratings are down, be it CTE, the election, or domestic violence, is the real culprit. The AFC South. I’d rather go to the zoo and watch monkeys in a cage throw poo at each other all day, than watch Tennessee and Jacksonville play each other.

Yet another living embodiment of the Dunning Kruger effect

At least Trump is comfortable being who he is, bluster and all. Curt on the other hand, painfully tries to pass himself off as some thoughtful intellectual of the right. It’s cringe worthy hearing him “explain” things. He’s an awful combination of a college freshman philosophy major and an embittered gamer-gater.

There’s something you don’t see every day.

“Guess we got to leave it ALL out on the field today”

10,000,000 people and no bathrooms! Oh my.

Here in America we call all Stanley Cup champ teams since 1994 not from Canada :p

For some context, the last dude was Mike Legg, whose greatest claim to fame as a hockey player was this goal.

I don’t throw on Shabbos.

Lineman-American, please.

Those microphones really tie the room together nicely.

While his father worked, George slept, his humours wracked with ague and his sleep beset by fevered dreams of the Orient. The clubhouse manager woke him up once for a bleeding of the medicinal sort, but he coughed once in the manner of an opium addict and drifted off again. Jamie Moyer, a Cleveland Spiders pitcher who…