If there was a drinking game based on doing shots every time Bradley coughed up a ball or made a poor pass, we'd all be quite piss-drunk

Amen. The US looked uninterested, and I think Bradley is psychologically damaged.

"Hi! I'm Michael Bradley! My head looks like a circumcised penis. But rest assured, I play like an uncircumcised one: ugly, flaccid, and something you're embarrassed to bring out when it really counts."

Maybe if Bradley could possess a simple fucking pass every once in awhile, that'd be greaaaat.

update: through half 1, Michael Bradley still playing like shit

So you're saying there was a second biter?

So I had a flock of gay men and straight women at the house to talk about ole Dempsey here last night. The conclusion we came to: He is only attractive in motion. You freeze frame anything, and it goes right to hell.

Every single one of these articles (this post included) needs more of the Italian team in their Dolce and Gabbana suits. (Click here for the gallery because I love you all and want you to be happy.

You UNDERSTAND too.

Well at least you all were willing to help her, just not able to! That's funny, hahaha.

My dad died two years ago this past Friday from Parkinson's. From when I was in sixth grade until I graduated from college, he and I did not have, it is safe to say, a particularly good relationship. He and my mom divorced when I was 11 years old, and I spent most of my teenage years hating and/or avoiding him. Things…

That's what bothered me most. Clinton was trying to bury the supposed hatchet or build some camaraderie, at the very least, and all Palin can do is speak to party lines and he-said, she-said nonsense. Real or rigged, it's terrifying that Palin was ever considered to be that close to such a high office.

Truly the Sophie's Choice of our time.

"Thou shalt not carry thy babe in thy arms, but affix it to the hem of thy garments."

Our chihuahua/pug is the greatest puppy. He talks and sings and will shove his head under a blanket and flail his legs when he wants belly rubs. He barks sometimes, but let's be honest. That UPS man might be trying to kill us. We don't know.

I'd check this out, but I've already filed an adoption application for this handsome pup.

In Montana we say "Here, hold my beer and watch this".

Still, dude's going to catch so much shit.

That look of drunken exhilaration and zero coordination and blind luck is incredibly Midwestern. We all recognize it. My drunk uncle stepped backwards off a deck yesterday, stumbled like he had been shot, and then made the same face as that woman when he didn't spill his beer. It was magical.