I like it, but call it what it is: casserole

Malort is a trick we play on tourists.

No it isn’t, it’s sauce in a bread bowl...

Dog dish of dough filled with Prego

Given the Sandusky/Paterno thing and the Pennsylvania Catholic Archdiocese scandal it’s apparent to me that the people of western (only western?) Pennsylvania are totally okay with child molestation. They do not see the problem with raping children and deserve any and all misery heaped upon them.

Chicago pizza is just lasagna 

Now we get to go 8-8 for about 4 years until everyone gets paid/quits/signs with another team/retires/dies and we go straight back to 4-12/6-10 range which is where we belong.

What a story, and you said you weren’t gonna be useful today!

I sat in a bar, with my pregnant wife, down in Florida watching that game unfold. The nice locals next to us seemed excited for the Bears about to kick the winning field goal. I told them that he was going to miss it. I had no doubts about this and then he hit those fucking poles. Sat there in my Mack jersey, staring…

Not a huge shock.

Marrying into the Upton family will do that to you. 

That’s some JV shit right there.

“Just what I always wanted… My own little foul ball… I will name him George and I will hug him and pet him and squeeze him…”

I mean, if his parents brought him to a Royals - Orioles game, they obviously don’t love him. This is obviously a case of using the baseball as a substitute for the love he lacks from his parents.

D) It’s your hypothesis. Therefore it is your responsibility to prove that it is true, not my responsibility to prove the negative.

I teach philosophy at the college level. Every semester I get at least one of these guys (and it is ALWAYS a guy) who says this kind of shit all the time. Once they find out a few weeks in that doing philosophy is less about huffing your own brain farts and more about trying to think clearly and precisely about a…

“If what has happened is a memory and whats going to happen is a thought, you’re taking yourself out of right now. So in that case, every hour is happy hour”- me to a completely empty bar and a visibly uncomfortable bartender at 8am on a Tuesday

Cool, I remember my first Phish concert.