Three 30s...? Or, if you’re asking about the dosage, I had a serious problem with Adderall (or Vyvanse or Dexedrine or Ritalin or, if I couldn’t find anything else, bath salts) for several years, and these days, even though I rarely fuck with speed, my tolerance for the stuff remains frustratingly high.

I’m not a die-hard fan, clearly, but I’ve generally enjoyed most of his stuff that I’ve heard. Sometime back in the early ‘90s I got to see him play live at a place in Orangeburg, SC called the Silver Spur, and it was fantastic.

The funny thing about this story—to me, at least—is how strongly many of the cousin-fucking white working class in SC despise Dawn Staley. To them, she’s not much more than a militant, race-baiting, uppity “negress.”

In South Carolina, we’ve always referred to The University of South Carolina as “Carolina” or USC (I’m 38). Hell, growing up in the backwoods of SC, the first time I heard UNC referred to as “Carolina” it blew my mind and confused the shit outta me. I honestly had no idea. To us, there was only Carolina and Clemson.

90 mg of Adderall, several pots of shitty, burnt office coffee, and many cigarettes. Also, one fun-size Twix.

I have 4 uncles, total, and 3 of them have some variation of this phrase tattooed on their bodies. Two of those three have that dumb fucking phrase incorporated into even dumber tattoos featuring the Tasmanian Devil waving a Confederate flag (the other uncle has the same dumbass phrase wrapped around a poorly-drawn…

That is fucking terrible! Christ...

I was wrong. It was a Charlie Daniels song: “Well he’s a friend of them long haired, hippy-type, pinko fags! I betchya he’s even got a commie flag...”

There’s some old Outlaw Country song in which the singer refers to someone as a “pinko commie fag.” So, yes..?

Every time my home state makes the national news it’s over some stupid fucking embarrassing bullshit like this. Without fail.

Who knew Margaret McPoyle could rap?

My folks never banned me from watching any films or television shows or from listening to any specific type of music. Which is really strange, now that I think about it, because we were a Southern Baptist family who attended church no less than 3 times per week.

Wow! That gif has been cracking me up for years, and I never had any idea of its origins. Always assumed it was made by some anonymous internet dweller.

According to the sensationalist docu-series “Life After People,” cats would be just fine, building feline empires among the jungles of abandoned, dilapidated skyscrapers. Domesticated dogs, however, would all be gone within a matter of weeks. Or whenever the flesh of their dead owners runs out.

I mean, she’s sorta grandstanding here, but I really don’t give a shit. Good for her. Fuck Larry Nasser; I’m glad he has to spend the rest of his life rotting away in a jail cell. Piece of shit.

Hulu? I just re-watched the entire series there. But, these days, Hulu is pretty worthless, so it’d be hard to blame you for not having a subscription.

In high school, I had a stupid, ongoing beef with a former friend, for reasons I can’t now recall. To fuck with him, we somehow decided that leaving dead animals on the porch of his family’s house was a reasonable course of action (only already-dead animals we found; we weren’t psychopaths).

I used to live in a loft where the only bathroom was upstairs, and the stairs were of the steel, spiral, shin-destroying type. I worked at a shitty little dive bar at the time, so whenever I was coming home, I was coming home drunk. That spiral staircase might as well have been a route up K2. So yeah, I pissed in my…

Because I was a bouncer at a shitty bar frequented by violent, shitty people. We, as a staff became violent and shitty as well, honestly. I don’t look much like the typical bouncer (tall and lanky), either, so that didn’t help. Dudes often tried to steamroll me because I didn’t look the part.

I cleaned the existing stadium fairly recently, right before they unveiled the Jerry statue.