A warm bed, fingerpaints, and doctors to listen to her entitled whining sound a lot cozier than a grave.

Eh... someday he’ll decide he doesn’t need those pills anymore, they make him feel wonky... or they just stop working. And then he’ll slaughter someone else, and there will be hand-wringing and “No one could have foreseen this” platitudes.

Chapman can take his place among other Yankee greats like Chad Curtis, Luis Polonia, Roger Clemens, Jim Leyritz, Mel Hall...

I always manage to bollix it up. They catch fire, or I’m too far from the flame and they don’t look any different, so then I put them right in the flames and they fall apart.

Joe Montana had Jerry Rice and John Taylor. Simms was slinging it to Phil McConkey. Who knows what might have been had the draft been reversed?

Worst way to eat marshmallows: toasted on a stick at a fire. You burn the outside to a vile-tasting, crusty char, while the inside is molten sugar lava that will destroy the inside of your mouth for a week. It’s tons of fun to toast them - just let them burn all the way out and throw them on the ground, and then eat…

“should we allow it as a society?”

With juvenile court proceedings, even if found guilty she’ll probably do a year or two in a cozy facility. I hope the boy’s family finds her someday and gets revenge.

“If she is mentally ill, throwing her in jail will not do her or society any good.”

That Vincent Li story is terrifying on every level. Not least that authorities see fit to let him loose. When he kills again there should be a way to find every moron who participated in his freedom partially liable.

I am sick of the “mental health community” and their bullshit excuses for mayhem. Seemingly every other day, some asshole in New York City throws an innocent person in front of a train, or stabs someone, or punches them in the face for no reason. Almost inevitably, it is revealed that these semi-human detritus have…

“I had beefy wet hot dog farts all day.”

If I just wanted a drawing to hang in my comics room, I could just do it myself (I’m pretty good at copying). I’d be interested in the historical (and sure, monetary) value of one by a true immortal. But I googled Romita and his original art is going for thousands; I bet a commisioned piece is even more.

Any fool can rap. Shouting over a drum machine isn’t exactly a talent.

I was done when Daniel Day Lewis got jobbed for “Gangs of New York”, though I shouldn’t have been surprised Adrien Brody won for “The Pianist”. If someone plays handicapped, brave gay or holocaust person (in that order), the award is theirs.

I bought my shitty house in 1997 for $215K. Two years later a friend couldn’t find an even shittier house for less than $400K in the same neighborhood. I’m no financial genius but I knew that day things couldn’t keep going in that direction. I wish I had known how to short mortgage-backed securities.

Wow, this is a thing? You can just ring up famous comic artists and pay them for art? I wonder what John Romita Sr would charge me for a drawing of Pete and Gwen.

Wow, that almost made soccer interesting for the first time ever!

Title IX says we have to make believe people care about this crap.

His pants fit like a glove! Ba-dump-dsshh!