Oh, Gawd. Grape lady has been my son's ringback tone for YEARS.

That would be the best kind of nightmare...

Tallahassee Police Department say Winston didn't fumble.

I love the NFL for many reasons, but the differences between head coaches being fired and winning coach of the year are one of my favorites.

Tough break for the Lions, losing Suh for the entirety of the playoffs.

Eh, not sure. It definitely wasn't a stomp, and I think slow-motion makes it look that much worse...but even as a Lions fan I have trouble giving Suh the benefit of the doubt.

No way he stepped on him on purpose... Now was he in a hurry to get off once he did? Nah. But that happens on every play to every player.

But of course it's a huge deal, because Rodgers is now in the Manning, Brady, Brees group where it is impossible for them to every have a bad game or make a mistake and every ounce…

The troll is strong with this one.

Looked pretty accidental to me. ~shrugs~

"Catch the hands". Oh, snap. Did he get "sonned" too? I bet his hands were "the truth"

Quit it, deadspin. Just quit it.

That's a glitch you only see in video games.

We're always happy to dump on ESPN when they screw up, but submitting a well-researched public records request on a subject of legitimate public interest in the expectation that it won't be sprayed all over the internet on Christmas Eve in an attempt to dampen its findings is definitely not an area where they screwed…

not much moral gray area in this situation... withholding/not-testing a rape test swab???? jesus h christ....

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

John Scott is a scrub and a goon, and I don't know what the hell he was doing taking that swipe, but the contact looked somewhat innocuous.

I've been shocked and disappointed at how A Most Wanted Man fell completely off the awards season radar. For Hoffman, most certainly, but also Robin Wright, as well as the cinematography, screenplay and direction. A truly superior piece of cinema in any year.

When my wife worked weekends and I was left home alone, I'd rarely speak. Not even to the cat — she wouldn't give a shit, anyway, and often got pissed because I interrupted her nap — or to the dog, who prefers to spend her days on a lounge chair, catching rays. Often, I'd conjure a pretext to visit the neighborhood…

That was me, and spoiler alert: Nope.

Wait ... the trade went through? So he quit the league and left this pissy voicemail because he couldn't take a little trash-talking from his leaguemates? Get fucked, "Wolfpack," you fucking baby.