Dammit. Thanks to live DVR, it's possible to watch the last 1:47 of this game and put the blame for a least one more session of Ashley Judd shenanigans squarely on the shoulders of Notre Dame. Thanks a lot, you pricks.
Dammit. Thanks to live DVR, it's possible to watch the last 1:47 of this game and put the blame for a least one more session of Ashley Judd shenanigans squarely on the shoulders of Notre Dame. Thanks a lot, you pricks.
How the fuck is a 57-year-old Jew an orphaned holocaust survivor?
This is real simple. This 30-year-old adolescent's agent realizes playing outside for the next two seasons puts all his cornerstone client's performance incentives in jeopardy, so he of course wants to get Peterson back indoors or at the very least somewhere much MUCH warmer so even if he has to take less guaranteed…
This jackass has gone full Rod Tidwell. Next stop, Arizona!
He's a dirty player and a shit human being, but boy - it would seem wrong to see him in any other bonnet than a Steelers' bonnet.
20 years ago, I was courtside for a Gophers tilt against Michigan. During a loose ball scrum, one of Michigan's forwards slid off the hardwood and landed in my lap. The kid was enormous, and it took myself and two seatmates to help the poor guy to his feet.
This is in Waukesha - the site of this (ahem) 'cabin' is in the ritzy-titsiest Western suburb of Milwaukee - literally 15 minutes from the interstate.
Was driving to work in a torrential downpour last Summer when the most horrible grinding sound imaginable started in the vicinity of the front wheel, driver-side on my truck.
I'm not 100% sure, but I think Bryant was a junior high school in the MPSD in the 1970s; Prince went to senior high school at Central - a campus which Minneapolis Public Schools shuttered in 1982.
How to deal with failure, and consequently how to mitigate fear of failure. The first big failure in my young adult life almost destroyed me, and it took me YEARS to be able to keep fear of failure in check - in business, in personal affairs, financially...
I wish I had words to describe how goddamn insufferable every fucking Wild hockey bobo in this town is going to be until this story dies away.
Rousey a physically gifted martial artist who fights FROM THE BELL in anticipation of split-seconds of indecision by opponents that she then uses to end fights decisively. Even if she wasn't as strong, as agile, and as technically complete an offensive fighter as she appears to be, she ends fights by recognizing and…
I was a bartender on and off at some really REALLY nice chop house and classic supper-club-type spots for years. I was taught by career bartenders that what makes a Manhattan a 'perfect' Manhattan is a whiskey blend - say, rye and bourbon; I kinda figured the blend of dry and sweet vermouth just went with the…
For some reason we were both compelled to order steaks. I like my steaks medium rare, but have found so often that restaurants undercook steaks that I order mine medium. I'm ok erring on the side of more well done than still mooing. My husband also likes his steaks medium rare and orders them that way.
I call bullshit on that dog shitting to death story, This is an urban legend that's been around since I was a senior in high school - you know the drill: It happened to a senior in last year's class with a girlfriend in the next town over in the most popular local version of the story when I was in high school.
I was at this game, sitting at courtside (SO EASY TO GET THE TICKETS) - in fact you can actually see me in the blue shirt, right behind the official manning the end line, there on the side where this took place.
See what happens when you have enough talent that it creates a lifelong coccoon of individuals who make you believe nothing you ever do is wrong?
As a longtime Fan and booster of our State's Iron Range prep hockey programs, I know there's a cake eater / off with their heads / rich sissy metro teams joke in here, but the fact is I'm too hungover from all those Windsor Sevens I drank at the Elks last night, and I'll be damned if I can find it.
This is the kind of delusion borne of a lifetime of no accountability for one's own decisions that would make even Vince Young say, "Now that's some piss-poor judgment."