Karma, whispering in his ear: “You should be fucking terrified of me too, bitch. Coming for your ACL next.”

I misread Petchesky’s thing as “everyone who works here is a chubby, judgemental weirdo” and immediately began polishing my (practically nonexistent) resume, despite my interest in sports being almost exclusively political and/or schadenfraude-related. 

My deepest sympathies. I live in San Diego so the worst we have, sports-wise . . . Marmalard still living here but commuting to LA? And the ghost of Bill Walton’s foot, back when we had the Clips. Anyway RIP to Cedric Benson and sorrow for his family, as well as his passenger’s. Another reminder that, as much as I…

+1 weird gray dick. Plus multiple unprosecuted sexual assaults. 

There’s never a valid excuse for getting blotto then driving like a fucking lunatic, but if I lived in Arizona I’d honestly probably stay on a multi-year blackout drunk. Then wander out of house in search of tacos are something and go die in the desert. Arizona is Florida with worse weather.

‘Twas not Matt who composed that bittersweet prose. ‘Twas the ghost of Fred Exley, a mere murmer wafting on the autumn breeze. 

Just so he could measure dicks with Peyton Manning. 

You’re* an idiot. Fixed

How deeply she must loathe this nebbish-ass morherfucker. Or has the loathing gradually given way to a comfortable indifference?

*Pictured* Grundle the cave troll emerges from slumber and descends from the mountains once every 100 years unto a small Norweigan hamlet. His hunger must be sated. Oral tradition tells the villagers not to despair. They offer up the mayor’s failson in an act of propreciation. Having gorged, the villagers will lull…

Among the many, many, many reasons this country is going to shit (wealth divide, inability to honestly discuss institutional racism and its legacy, a self-avowed pussy grabber with absurd hair being somehow appealing to enough scared, angry white people to win 46% of the popular vote), the gradual erosion of our…

Was generally aware during my teenage years that my dad had a few dalliances. I think I actually met one of them, although neither actually came out and said Yup, we’re boning. I remember she wore extremely unflattering jeans. At any rate my attitude at the time was something like yeah this sucks but any specific…

Just a general public service, there’s a YouTube channel called How to Drink that is really amazing. Just a drunk, sweaty guy making cocktails in his basement rumpus room (I’m kind of assuming somewhere in Brooklyn.) Kind of like Bingeing With Babish for esoteric booze knowledge and tiki drinks. Get your elegant drunk…

I spent over eight hours Mai Tai drunk at the San Diego Pride parade this past Saturday. I have no regrets. Although my shoulders are currently peeling in sheets that resemble old masking tape. Regardless, Mai Tai drunk is excellent and highly recommended.  

Way to poke the dingbat nest tonight. 

Aw he’s just surly because he has to walk around all his life looking like Corey Feldman and shit. I’d be pissed too. 

I have literally no response to this.

Watch Boogie on one of those stupid Celebrities Read Mean Tweets things. Him laughing his ass off in response to “DeMarcus Cousins is an emotional lesbian” is genuinely endearing. If the Lakers whiff on Kawhi I kind of hope they pick him up. 

Meaning West Virginia got it right? I need a Tylenol. 

If there’s any active player in the league who could potentially flip out and beat the living fuck out of James Dolan (for any number of valid reasons) it’s Bobby Portis. That possibility, no matter how slight, has to be a compelling bit of baksheesh to mitigate the general shittiness of Portis somewhat, for Knicks…