Yeesh. We all know what happens when someone affiliated with MSG forces someone to love something or someone: they pay out in the eight figures and you get a job running a WNBA team.

Baseball hasn’t seen a bubble pop like that since the dawn of Upper Deck.

It’s a shame, because that was an A1 ending to regulation.

And that’s not counting the expense account. Someone’s got to cover the cost of the taxicab Friedman takes to get material for his next column.

The only problem: do people even know George Will is still employed?

To say that a “contested” convention would be a “deliberative body” tells you all you need to know about Will. Sure, a deliberative body like the Iraqi parliament.

I bet this guy wished he had bet more-ster.

Ohhh, you all have got to read NAKED AT LUNCH. Funny stuff on the weird world of nudists.

Do they have an upside down sneeze guard?

Pro tip: you don’t have to listen to Raffi if you don’t want to. Play The Ramones instead. Loud, simple, repetitive, so perfect for kids.

Loving fame and fortune is the reason a celebrity wouldn’t for their death? Fake Dead Prince would suggest you check the billboard charts and the millions of words of adulation spewed over the last week.

I’d be mad at Mark Cuban too if he riddled my t-shirt with a shotgun blast. Thanks, Cuban!

Coincidentally, one also brought Chris Colabello’s season to a halt.

I think you should publish full names and email addresses.

Calls to mind the classic burn: Brazil is the country of the future, and always will be.

Bill Walton has had a few injuries over the years.

If they were playing the kings, he’d be first checked into the wall.

So this is good?

Or National’s Ass Jonathan Papelbon

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