His wife looks like this:

It’s obvious you don’t want him to succeed. You want him to suffer, because your experience calls for people like him to be punished for your pain. This is very human. But you can’t be human like that— you have to take little snipes at your “friend.”
The more he demonstrates success, the more you sneer there’s fat…

“You know what I find dope? Being pregnant by my billionaire fiancee while breaking a tie with Steffi for majors by winning the Australian Open this year. Happy 30th birthday, Marina!” (Roger Rabbits, Cabbage Patches, Dougies, Dabs, designs dress, rubs belly on a yacht)

I’m fully aware of that. If people voted based on the language of surveys, we’d be golden. Unfortunately there’s this thing called “politics” wherein people are convinced of such solid facts as that Obamacare is different from the Affordable Care Act. But feel free to masturbate to your survey results in the meantime—…

It’s a good thing Mkhitaryan salvaged something from this awful, brutal play.
—Richard Spencer

Hamilton, I can’t recommend highly enough some Ira Katznelson books. So that when the GOP DOESN’T CONTROL THE WHOLE FUCKING GOVERNMENT, and it’s legislatively feasible to fix something, a la 2009, we would take a deep breath and realize the U.S. of good ole fuckin’ A has a big white supremacist emergency brake on any…

I’m old enough to remember the play of Monica Seles. Announcers managed to keep their composure for years.

This week he’ll be “Forney.”

“Please insert your 20-year-old into the press.” — Peter Thiel voiceover for the Hematero

Guess he had time to mullett over.

“Take that for Data!” will go down as a great moment in NBA press conference history, because when a nice guy turns nasty it often becomes Lore.

In China they call his style, “Loving, Sensitive, White Teddy Bear”

It’s a small homeplate, but he doesn’t want to paint it.

This was based on a melanin chart the British posted in 1920 for diplomats fathering children in Shanghai.

Tony was too embarrassed to tell Cuban that his real hope was to play homoerotic volleyball and kill a co-pilot.

“Ball hands ball to Hands, Hands gives ball back to Ball.” — UCLA announcer next year

.

“If my grandson plays my face will spill tears and/or will redden,” backer of Jost says.

“He’s the Mickey Mantle of football!! Drinks two bottles of whiskey and is STILL BETTER THAN JIM BROWN IN HIS PRIME!! Sorry. Force of habit.” — Lavar Ball

“That damn Magary, is he still trying to call it Megatron’s—”