"Twitter is not your personal playground," ESPN reminded its employees. "However, per our reputation as a hotbed of sexual escapades, our patent-pending social media service, Twatter, soon will be."

I Really Had A Ball: The Story of John Mills

Don't let these guys strongarm you into thinking your comment sucks ball.

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"Productivity was shot for the rest of the night."

In other developments, spectacle has asked Mr. Davenport to pay for half the fence.

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Filing an immediate copyright infringement suit were the makers of Orgasmic Pac-Man.

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Collins later renamed the plane the Philadelphia Eagle, because, on paper, it went really far.

And Woody Allen's prophecy at last came true: He did meet a tall dark stranger.

Mark McGwire Thinks He Has The Numbers For The Hall Of Fame, And "Obviously They Are (888) 425-5633"

In efforts to substantiate the efficacy of 5-Hour Energy, twins Craig and Charlie Reid stuffed six cases of the stuff into a pair of backpacks, stepped to the track and started walking.

It will be sad if Styles, having been cited for sporting wings, is later forced to coif up his medal.

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After margaritas, we can smoke some the 1200 lbs. of dope I stored in the tunnel beneath Customs.

That one tie? Yeah, it's due to the Peruvian the coyotes left straddling the fence at Nogales.

However, as evidenced by the picture, the Sox have not banned Molotov cocktails.