Ouch, that’s gonna be a 3 tenths deduction.

I once accidentally (and audibly) farted at the graveside service after a funeral. Way worse than any place you listed.

Then I have no choice but to go to the next level on the power move scale and pull you in for a one-armed hug while lowering the volume and pitch of my voice to continue the conversation in your ear.

What if I grip firmly, but also do that douchebag thing where I turn your hand over and cover it with my left hand?

I build it myself, out of hardwood that I sawed and sanded with the sides of my hands.

Mark Davis is like a Zach Galifianakis character brought to life by a child’s misguided wish.

Everything you need to know about where this franchise is headed can be gleaned from the opening paragraph (THIS WAS THE FUCKING OPENING) of a profile of their owner.

Just wish Michael had turned on his brother mid-interview, made mention of his conspicuous lack of rings, and say that’s why Mom named you Martellus and not Marshowus

“Worst quarterback in the NFL,” [Michael] says.