Conversation I had with friend who loves horror movies:

"A boxing glove arrow, no that's stupid."

Fuck Florida.

Three years without a test? What do they think those swabs are, FSU football players?

"...you have my attention."

And the Million Mummy March will never get to Washington DC at this rate.

Well, there goes my evil plan to raise a million mummy army to take over the world.

Clausen in the huddle, after the hit:

Q: What will the Bears do if everything else goes wrong?

"Good, now get 'em back in there. And tell him his name is Jim."

I'm sure Homeless Mike down the street finds your whining about your shitty desk job to be just as offensive. You have the fucking privilege to take your boss's shit to get a paycheck on a regular basis. I'm sure you'll be sad one day when you look back at the missed opportunity to say "YES SIR!" in a gleeful way at…

"he'll be sad for the choices he made."

As with most Josh Smith releases, it clanged off the back iron and flew out of bounds.

After the last reporter left and the room grew silent, Lynch sat down in his locker and shed a single tear, sighing, "No one ever asks about my heart."

And Angelenos everywhere gave a collective shrug and went back to their RedZone and Sunday Ticket on their giant TVs in the comfort of their homes.

It's alternative sports fandom! Like alternative comedy and alternative music! Talk yourself into liking something that sucks because it's perceived as more clever than the status quo.