I was thinking calf-to-calf, maybe knee, depending on the size of the person and/or their underseat item, but I get loud and clear that majority of people prize the sanctity of their 16.5 inches of seat width over incidental comfort, so mea culpa.

Oh I don't. I just wondered if it was possible to communicate that I don't give a shit if someone's pant leg touches mine. It isn't, so I'll carry on as before.

I’m glad you mentioned it, because I was beginning to think that November was just one of my really vivid, happy, totally implausible dreams, like the one about Heidi Klum, or the one about being locked inside a cookie dough factory.

Good god. I hope they took away the shoelaces and belt of whoever has to run that Twitter.

And that was the only one of my shitty goddamn son of a bitch Sabres' motherfucking 46 shots to find its way past Schneider. Excuse me while I go chug a pint of Prestone.

Man. Scott Walker’s later stuff makes Lou Reed’s “Metal Machine Music” sound like fucking nursery rhymes. There’s uncompromising, and then there’s Scott Walker. I’m a little convinced that we haven’t had contact with an alien civilization because they’d never want to fuck with a species that could produce "Bish Bosch".

Senator Harris is my number one choice, but I’m still baffled how any sane human being can be optimistic about things in 2019.

Other side of the coin: is there a non-creepy way to communicate “I don’t care if your leg rests against mine because that’s better than both of us getting cramps by trying to maximize our legroom while not incidentally touching the other person”? I don’t care about the gender or sexual orientation of the person…

This makes me sad. My grandfather was an Amtrak and freight train engineer his whole life, and I even have his old-timey pocketwatch with a train engraved on it. I know trains are an antiquated failure, but man, I still want to believe that there’s a place for them. But there really isn’t, and this drives that point…

If Warrior hadn’t delivered that promo on Raw the night before he died, he’d be just another four-minute clip reel set to a butt rokk ballad and nothing more. But the fact that he seemed to prophesize his own death—and make it seem inspirational—stirred something in Vince’s addled noggin and made them decide that the…

Silver lining: at least Pence won't be president.

99 times out of 100, I read a boxing story, and it makes me ashamed that I love this stupid sport as much as I do. And then there's something like this, and my heart grows like the Grinch's when he pulls the sled away from the cliff.

When did Cam Newton get married?

Agree with all of that, and I’ll add real-time playback. No more slo-mo microsecond parsing of whether the ball was wobbling before or after a shoelace was touching chalk. That’ll fix the obvious blown calls like the Rams-Saints PI and prevent circus catches from being overturned because the receiver exhaled as he hit…

Hertzfeldt’s couch gag is the best thing “The Simpsons” did in, like, 20 years.

It’s a shame that a match between Jay Lethal (long one of my favorite wrestlers in the world) and David Starr (my new favorite wrestler in the world based on this video) has the stench of Sinclair anywhere near it.

Same.

Five American Dollars to the first person to find this guy and kick him right in the nuts.

“Rush Propst" is the most I-sodomized-the-family-dog name ever.