LOL don’t know what scoreboard you’re reading, but I got 8-1 right here. Undefeated, baby!

Your boss sounds like the type of guy who will inevitably go on medical leave for the extraction of someone’s foot from his ass.

Mr. Danger

It’s been clear for a long time that the dude—whose entire IDENTITY is built on “winning” and “being a winner” and “doing deals”—would completely fall apart as soon as anyone topped him in the polls. The fact that it is a certifiable lunatic like Ben Carson is just the cherry on top. I still predict that he will…

I consider my internet commenting as volunteer labor I am providing, free of charge, to worth charities, and thus I deduct it as a charitable contribution. Gawker Media is a 501c3, right?

If someone reads an award winning work of literature written by a conservative, about a conservative subject? Pretty sure that book hasn’t been written yet, but get back to us when you’re talking about a *plausible* scenario.

MR. MAISTER: And you know, this issue with the bed covered with automatic weapons. Didn’t you once make a joking comment about taking her to the gun show?
MR. HARDY: Yeah.
MR. MAISTER: And what did you do after that?
MR. HARDY: Kissed my biceps and winked at her.
MR. MAISTER: And she liked that. You kissing your bicep. So…

Presumably Melville’s is upstairs from Prost?

Wait, so everyone knew who it was, and they stayed in the dorm?

F. Social media which (a) constantly shows you how your friends are celebrating/worshipping their kids, and (b) taps into everyone’s natural paranoia and competitiveness.

I think you mean 7-1.

Waze/Tinder integration would probably be the greatest thing to ever happen, FWIW.

I’m sure I’m not the only one who recalls the immortal Babar/Babbar conversation in “Fletch.”

Yeah, my wife has a goddam divot in her arm from where a mole was removed. It was pre-cancerous so there was no question, but it’s not like you just pew-pew-pew it with a laser and wake up 3 minutes later to a blissful mole-free existence.

Popovich: [shits himself]
Popovich: [wakes up, realizes it was all a dream]
Popovich: laughs
ESPN: praises Popovich’s dream-shitting technique as coaching masterstroke.

Chip is the GM, though. Couldn’t he trade himself for a conditional 7th round pick in 2027?

If only there was some sort of offensive mastermind of a head coach who could be enticed to switch jobs based on the promise of coaching Mariota, a young team, and one with a top draft pick next year. Who could that be....

I wish players could be alerted that they’ve been added to my fantasy team—it most likely means they are just about to be benched, or suffer a season-ending injury.

No anti-fog windows?

“But Mastroddi didn’t initially accept the explanation that a team employee would be responsible for ensuring the performance of the referee’s microphone”