I was a teenager watching that Diana Ross halftime show at home. As Miss Ross made her entrance from a helicopter, my mom walked in and asked, “Is that Little Richard?”

+1 make-a me feel-a so good

“Decades” might be stretching it:

It’s not so much the cash as the assurance that the NRA won’t oppose them.

1st half = party at Sly Stone’s house

+1 Mayosplanation

Am I the only one who finds that top photo to be quite the optical illusion?

That should at least win for Best Sports Photo

Best Trump identifying metaphor

U.S. Olympic men’s basketball, 1972. The seconds don’t get re-added.

A Female Deer

Holla.

Also: mashed cauliflower.

I approve of this.

I’ve just realized that if Ichiro doesn’t make it, Beltre may be MLB’s last shot at 3,000 hits for quite some time.

The other thing no one ever asks is, Is this the kind of life Drake even wanted for himself? For all we know, he would much rather have been home pursuing any number of non-baseball pursuits, and I’m saddened that he’s forced into living out his dad’s ideals of what real-man living is all about.

I had this conversation with myself when Nancy Reagan died; I’ve long thought that she and Ronnie deserve a long afterlife holding hands by the fire for their callous disregard of those with AIDS in the 1980s. I held my tongue — and fortunately didn’t have to for long because of Hillary Clinton’s misguided tribute to…

Acronym, but your point is well taken.

What a horribly written tweet.