I miss those early days of baseball card photo doctoring.

Imagine this chasing you around your apartment: 

You got to know when to holdynewicz them and when to Foltynewicz them.

It’s technically not napping when you’re running a length of garden hose from the tail pipe into the cab of the vehicle. 

If you haven’t seen it, check out Kylo Ren Undercover Boss.

First time, long time, Bobcat. Now let me tell you about those Roughriders. No, the other Rough Riders.

It’s nice to see that Mike Greenberg paid tribute to the show by telling a couple of boring stories that I don’t give a shit about.

Impressive, I couldn’t even see the goalpost.

Only if you swallow the big pill first, and then only for the proscribed period.

Nice to see someone embrace the futility of existence and just say fuck it. We are just animals in a pit.

“I fought to protect the freedoms you enjoy in this country, so you better stop fucking enjoying them!”

“Jerry Rodshoffer. 945 Summit St.

Why in the morning indeed. Just give me a beer! Like, Jesus Christ how is this so complicated.

In my experience, you say, “Hey dipshit, I can puke in the restroom or I can puke by the soda fountains. At this point, I don’t give a shit anymore.” And then the 16-year-old cast member calls security and you’re banned from California Adventure.

I mean, Panama’s entire existence is predicated on letting things through.

Have...work to do...don’t...go...to bbref....

It’s actually goodminton.

the screen door slams, sindhu’s cock sways.
like a vision she shuttles across the court as okuhara plays.

Any time he pitches, this is me.

I first read your comment as a request for shorter athletes. That threw me.