(volcanic eruption in Borneo) (ash distorts the color of the moon, making it look like a giant red ass) Village Elder: Looks like Bumgarner and the Giants will win again.

Eric : Donald :: Nice Guy Eddie : Joe

(Gen-X scoff) More like UNfair Harvard.

I suggest a poll on the relative trustworthiness of the parties involved, maybe conducted at a Port-au-Prince refugee center.

Host: What else can you tell me about the Pepper Hamilton recommendations?

Side question: how does one virtually draw the shortest of all short straws?

I think the real culprit is the spurned hypnotist who apparently told the Orioles to stop hitting after the 4th inning.

(millenial scoff) More like U-bad-o (hit in head with half-full Labatt bottle)

The problem is replicating Britton for the multiple situations he would have been needed. If original Britton does the 8th and 9th well then his clone may be less effective in the 10th or 11th. Don’t even get me started on the goofus Britton lined up for the 12th.

(takes long drag off of American Spirit) Maybe we’re in the 396th season of American Horror Story as it pertains to the treatment of women, natives and minorities.

I always come back to the number 28: I think it was Dubya’s final approval rate, probably also those who think there was a Saddam/9-11 connection and/or that we found WMDs in Iraq. Hell, saying the attackers are Afghani is incorrect (mostly Saudi Arabian), and I have to remind myself of that occasionally.

(deep breath) Why does anybody care (sock stuffed in mouth, escorted out the back of the alt.univision.deadpin.screamer warehouse)

One thing’s for sure, the owners in all the aforementioned leagues are probably pumping in tens of millions to the Grand Old Party, or at least reactionary Koch Brother-like anti-progress initiatives.

2900 words on caring about stuff from the deliverer of 8th division Albanian low-lights?

Trumbo only pawn in game of life.

I still maintain the best tombstone would have been BILLY MAYS HERE

Who’s got two thumbs and an emergent self-awareness?

Not to be confused with ‘The Brokest Weis,’ a Taiwanese reality show about a billionaire and his brood who lost it all.

My six months in London dramatically increased my appreciation of bacon that had been cooked for more than a nanosecond. And of putting off baked beans until an afternoon meal.

No NFL commentator or referee-consultant can take to the air until they pass the Red Queen test, i.e. believing six impossible things before breakfast