Quitting after 8 minutes means he isn’t playing with enough heart.

Am I the only one who swears they recognize this dance from somewhere?? This is going to destroy the rest of my afternoon with Google searches.

My guess is that wearing the raccoon outfits probably helped you avoid detection. That’s smart Momming!

My dad recently came to visit me in New York. He’s not in the best shape so we took lots of cabs. Literally every single time we got in a cab my dad would chuckle softly to himself, lean forward getting right up to the cab driver’s ear and say, “Is this the [long pause] cash cab?!?” [Laughs way too loudly]. The cab…

To really catch up with the rest of us who learned as kids, you have to attach a playing card to the frame so the spokes flick it and it sounds like a motorcycle. Just for a week or so. Only then will you be accepted as a true equal.

Wouldn’t it be amazing if NFL broadcasts allowed callers like your local talk show? Jerry from Arbutus could call in during challenges, between possessions, and after big plays to weigh in and give his hot takes. It will never happen, of course, but god that would be awesome.

The Japanese approach to bathing is the way forward. Wash first, then soak in clean water in a deep tub (about 1.5 feet deep). Mixing soap with bath water is amateur hour.

give me the frank reynolds!

I just realized something. Martin Van Buren is the role Bill Murray was born to play.

Fucking with late night drive thru customers... Ahh I could teach a master’s class in it.

once upon a time i worked in the most magical place on earth on a day when our small, specific location was almost out of maps. there was a printing delay and we had 3 boxes to get through the weekend. that’s like 1500 maps which wasn’t really enough. to the point where we were contemplating scouring the building at…

*At a fried chicken place somewhere in San Antonio*

Can we address the defensive interference that is running rampant on the basepaths?

That’s...not an Easter Egg. That’s called “reusing a model in a blurry background shot to save an hour that would otherwise be wasted on something nobody would notice or care about.”

The answer is a certified pre-owned Honda Odyssey.

Actually, I think the worst is the one where the dad doesn’t even address you and just says quietly through gritted teeth “get over here” with rage in his eyes. Or, if it’s really bad, doesn’t even say anything and just stealthily strides over to you in half a heartbeat like some goddamn wraith.

my wife occasionally eats with her mouth open and lightly smacks her lips. luckily we have a 4 year old that I was able to hammer home the Chew With Your Mouth Closed lesson and he started correcting his mother. I have to pat myself on the back for that.

“Buddy” is also the highest level of dad trouble. Mom trouble tops out at the full name, including middle: “Drew Fulgensio Magary, you get in this house right now!”

As someone who adopted a Russian orphan, I say just try and come get him, Vlad.

(secretly one of my biggest fears, though, that he was the hidden love child of some notorious Russian mobster who would come to the US to find his only living heir...)

“Half anaconda and half great white”