buncha big bad potato boys filled with the blood of a thousand angry weasels swattin the pelota around the yard when they aren’t strikeZoning some hapless homonids is what I always say

This is very accurate and good.

Yes but with the cool and good band from the dusty past you could sidle up to your pals and be like check this music out. it’s so good they don’t even make it anymore.

But if it’s “new” to you...

Is “discovering” an obscure and very good band from, say, the late 1980s as cool as, more cool than, or less cool than “discovering” an obscure and very good up and coming band from today? Is cool a cool word to use for cool people?

pls dont tell anyone

hack your style with this cybernetic anti-gravity pouch complete with shoulder hacking straps and analog clips for cybersecurity

wear it on your head or give it to a dog, this bisexual gender-nonconforming polo shirt will unlock the prison beneath the sands of time and burn away your past with balefire

I’ve always been more of a street savvy, country-club chic kind of a guy.

yes

I like this dog and this bird.

time to wrap an eel around my neck and fill my living room with sand because I ........ THINK ........THAT’S ........WHAT .........HOCKEY’S ........ALLL .........ABOUT!!!!!

Jupiter is in retrograde and the chimes of Old Vassiloth are tinkling in a cold Martian wind rolling over the frozen shoulders of Olympus Mons. Huginn and Muninn sit on the captain’s shoulders and he is lost in the ocean between his ears.

The hot dogs haunt his dreams and it’s becoming clear that the bright line between the ephemeral dream world and the real physical plain is blurring badly for Fox. In practice he’ll often blow his whistle and wave his hands, stopping play cold. He’ll rip chunks of turf out and sniff them. He’ll survey the horizon with…

the use of ‘crazy’ in the headline seems redundant

I would choose to travel back to the time when America Was Great Again, which was a time many thousands of years ago when elephant-like creatures ruled the land as noble, scholarly pacifists who enjoyed wearing intricately beaded muumuus woven from the fibers of rainbows.

The real Skip Bayless is locked in a cell several hundred feet underground. There, his cruel captors siphon hot takes from his shattered mind 24 hours a day. Bayless huddles in the corner of his cell, naked but for a rough sackcloth and short length of hempen rope that he uses as a belt because it isn’t long enough to…

We finally live in a world where men and women have a more equal shot at irreparably harming their brains playing a sport that’s exploitative and viol...

hm...use my death powers....for...good?

Not to dredge up bad feels but when I wrote something that got published to Gawker the site only lived for about a week after my post. Now, Deadspin put something I wrote on its hallowed blog page and I’m just afraid I’ll lose you too. Before posting, did you consider that I might be the blog version of the angel of…