If it was a job, they’d be getting paid.

I still can’t believe that thing is real.

I like this as the premise for a Little Big League/Rookie of the Year/Like Mike mashup movie

don’t get your revenge by posting a slanderous Yelp review

I know where you meant to go, but it’s not “Kazoo” it’s Martin Gramatica.

Not Princess Leia.

Once you get past the fact that the building is draped in what’s essentially Ed Hardy jewelry, the structure itself contains some great ideas.

The first bit sounded kinda Hannibal Lecter creepy (which I liked), but the loud commanding voice in the second half needed some additional gravitas.

Update (3:24 p.m.): A spokesperson for the Texans replied, and said Watt broke his hand during a drill. He was firm that the injury had nothing to do with the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.

I’ve barely gotten anywhere in the game (so far as I can tell), but your description of an armored tux has already decided my faction for me. I modeled my character after Humphrey Bogart, so it seems like a great fit.

I like this idea. Call a courier. Costs you some caps. Is he trustworthy? Maybe you have to pay him more to make sure your really awesome gun that you have no ammo for but weighs 50 pounds actually makes it back to the settlement...

Saints superfan with the flag plays appropriately representative cover defense.

found the real villain: @SaviSenpai

You’d think after 15 seasons, baseball writers would learn how to spell his name:

Skimmed through the headlines and thought this story was about a Russian team because of this terrible font.

True. Wasn’t considering the size, just stoked to have sifted through various megatron flotsam and find a screen with that name on it.

Was this it? (made by Grundig, whoever that is) Came up twice in my results and looks like that might be what’s written over the blue triangle.

Choosing a favorite pumpkin beer comes down to “which one of these tastes least like pumpkin but a pumpkin was tangentially involved?”

I’m not Rand Paul

This end-zone exceptionalism is especially striking when it takes place along the sideline—a ball fumbled out just past the pylon, which can be a matter of inches, is treated entirely different from one fumbled out of bounds just before it. That doesn’t make sense.