I suppose that could be a simpleton’s interpretation.

Sound logic. “The police have proven to be a force of terror and lies so you better do what they say.”

Jesus christ you people have the chat syntax of 17 year old lax bros.

Dogs are the best. We are so lucky to live on a planet that has dogs. Here’s my little miss in a nest she made from a sleeping bag, an afghan, at least four pillows, and an Armani coat.

Sprocket was that dog’s name, if I haven’t totally forgotten my childhood.

When I lived in NYC I was of the opinion that if your umbrella was capable of covering any more people than it was actively covering it was far too fucking big and you were a horrible sociopath, but I currently live in a place where attitudes toward walking anywhere range from tepid to naked hostility, so I walk…

Someone I once knew found that sprinkling her dried kale or seaweed with liquid aminos would add that mild salty zing you may be looking for.

You know, I used to have no real fear of Trump, only paralyzing terror of Trump supporters. My reasoning being that Trump is just the brand, and Donald himself just loves the attention, so he’ll be whatever the rubes and angry morons are clamoring for. But what I’ve only just now realized is that his need for…

I love love love offensive jokes, but the number one rule is that they have to be funny. Nothing he has ever said qualifies.

This is very white, upper-middle-class advice.

Honestly, that’s on Steph for passing up that absolutely wide open look.

You don’t have one, only completely baseless conjecture and your own fantasies about what happens in public restrooms.

To be fair, sports radio callers are often some of the flat-out dumbest fucking people imaginable, and having to deal with them one-on-one every single day must be kind of hellish.

Not a hanger, it just started at his fucking head and ended at his fucking ankles. Wainwright’s curve back then was simply unreal. He had to tone it down for longevity, but, jesus, when he came in that inning, after Endy’s Catch and me riding around the bar on my friend’s shoulders knowing that we were gonna win this…

Yep, every time.

I’m turning 40 soon and my personal, internal humor staple is changing any song’s lyrics to make it all about poop. The only thing that ever grew up was my public inhibition.

Not really when you remember he’s only projected to be healthy enough to play two games.

Yeah I have a shitty foam pillow for my knees/thighs, and sometimes another feather one for slinging an arm over when the dog is being uncooperative.

I have been using this pillow structure for years with great success: 1 thin base pillow that can be shitty foam (not feather); 1 large, well-stuffed, heavy feather pillow for “framing;” 1 thin, light, smooshy, easily-flippable feather pillow for the top, which perfectly cradles your head and face, stays cool longer,…