I’m relaying this with all the grains of salt I can muster (pun not intended, I guess), because I’ve been a gullible person in the past. However, I’m pretty sure this is legit.
I’m relaying this with all the grains of salt I can muster (pun not intended, I guess), because I’ve been a gullible person in the past. However, I’m pretty sure this is legit.
This. Was going to point out that anorexia simply refers to “not eating,” not to the disorder of voluntarily not eating, which is anorexia nervosa.
Fuck, I hope this isn’t what I have.
And that’s why I don’t listen to the Bloodhound Gang anymore without feeling like I need to go feed a rescued kitten or give old cellphones to a women’s shelter or sommat.
Maybe it’s just me, but this strikes me as more gross than funny. Not the anal part (it’s funny because cololoscopy reference!), but I don’t think prank texting or IMing is okay. My words are my own, regardless of format. Don’t speak for me or make someone else think I said something I didn’t, even if it’s a joke.
Word. I only go out when I know I can catch the last Max out of the city. Puts a crimp in things like open-to-close DJ nights, but I'd rather be able to have a few drinks and not have to calculate when I'll be sober enough to drive, remember where I parked, ugh parking in general...
Someone downthread said, “you don’t deserve that,” and because I’m feeling unoriginal, I’m gonna repeat it. Because fuck those people. Hope things get awesome for you soon!
Thank you for posting informative info! I look forward to reading your columns every time I see your byline.
Repeated sub-concussive blows to the head can be more damaging than full-blown concussion, especially if the brain isn’t rested between hits. That’s why NASCAR does cognitive tests on their drivers during the off season, and when they’re concussed, they don’t get to drive until their scores are up to that baseline.
The Connor Ruebusch link about McGregor’s change in style prior to the Siver fight goes to Siver’s profile on Sherdog, not to BE. Not sure if that’s what you were intending.
I miss living in the same town as my BFF’s dad, a former Army mechanic who’d fix most anything if I brought him the parts and handed him tools while he wrenched. Instead, I have oil change guys who fuck up my transmission (partly my fault, but I’m still pissed at their business practices) and otherwise good mechanics…
But Phil Spector didn’t spend his days telling young people how to live their lives while drugging and raping women.
There are no winners in this fight, and I actually like EDM, so don’t take this as “old person yells at whippersnappers” comment.
When I temporarily broke my brain (don’t ask), I found that sleeping in front of the NFL Draft Combine was the most soothing thing possible. Somehow, the combination of color and sound was the perfect lullaby. And I’m not even that into the NFL.
My big sister drove the 1st gen Scirocco. One of my favorite things as a kid was going for drives with her on weekends and chilling. Fuck, now I want one...
THIS. Plus avoiding work emails.
Been there. Ugh. Super nice guy, had a great time, our friends got along, etc. No red flags to speak of. We hadn’t gotten past semi-chaste goodnight kisses yet.
I don’t know. All I know is my best friend and on-and-off lover ghosted me after a decade, and I still don’t know WTF is going on.
I’ve had this argument before when standing across from another female athlete with a painted face...
This is actually good advice, because every accountant I know in Montana is retired.