The bottled version has a rusty flavor to it that I can't quite put my finger on. Draft is ok. I went to college in bumfuck central PA and Wednesday night was 25 cent Yuengling pitcher nights - we made do.

I live in Philly. Friend of mine got married and had several kegs of Victory's Prima Pils on hand. Best wedding ever.

Oh man, I had their Everything Bagel ice cream. I was SO confused. I don't understand how ice cream can actually taste like an everything bagel and still be...good? I think it was good?

I know this will be buried in over 1500 other comments, but I just came here to say fuck Starbucks and their goddamned caramel macchiatos right in the steam hole.

marry me?

Haha. Oh yeah, I could go on for hours. Might be my favorite episode in general. I will never get over Lana as Calpernia the French maid.

Jesus, mother! What else was on the menu tonight? Sex under a hive of Africanized bees?!

Oh man I am COUNTING down the days until one of their Christian soldier spawn finally writes a tell-all book. Counting them down!

"glass of vagina" is immediately going into my lexicon of frequently used phrases.

Your genitals, please return them. Your right to use them has been revoked for fear that you may one day procreate.

Makes me proud to be a Marylander born and raised. You tell them, Babs!

Are we sure it's Area 51?

And everyone knows that every Internet game ever has retained the same amount of popularity over time. So I say buy! Buy! Buy stock in Candy Crush!

Oh man, I'm in DC and it's the same. The constant back & forth temperatures are killing my sinuses and my skin. I bought a facial moisturizer, which has helped. My hands are still a goddamn mess, though. I've even been sleeping with lotion and gloves on. Not helping.

"But winter is determined to leave us with one last parting shot, like a guest taking a massive dump in your bathroom before walking out the door."

You are drinking the wrong kind of American beer. Craft beer is delicious, unique, and fucking EVERYWHERE.

Blue Moon is beating Dogfishhead 90 Minute IPA?

The fuck is wrong with me that my first inclination is to not believe the mother's back story? Is there some sort of surgery available that can lift the excess cynic out of me?