This is beautiful, and also probably very true.
This is beautiful, and also probably very true.
Careful, that fucking shitheel might find out where you work and decide to search your car and your tweets.
Honestly, this would have been funnier.
I get it. I’m from Maryland, and while I like crabs, whenever someone from out-of-state starts talking to me about them and how much they’re looking forward to them, my eyes glaze over into a thousand-yard stare and the kind of sad music you’d imagine at the end of Shane or Old Yeller starts playing in my mind...
Goddamnit, this was good.
“Man, this is some bullshit!”
You nailed it, man.
Full disclosure: I went to Pittsburgh for a wedding with an ex-girlfriend in September 2015. The wedding itself was actually super classy—bride and groom were both Ph.Ds—so I really thought “hey this might not be a bad trip.”
I knew there was a place all these Western PA crackers were manufacture! There’s just simply no way that many slack-jawed yokels are getting laid on a regular basis.
I can taste the beer’s bitterness through my screen.
I work in an office filled with Steelers fans.
Preliminary reports indicate that the pilot lost control of the plane after learning Tennessee has a professional football team.
“Bulky beefy blogger body” sounds like a great name for a sketch comedy troupe whose lone season of television exposure airs in reruns on Epix at 3am.
It’s bus. BUS.
Jeff Fisher is just eminently forgettable.
Magnificent.
I’ll be honest, for a moment there, when Jeff Fisher’s name popped up, I had to stop for a second and thought to myself, “wait, Jeff Fisher *isn’t* still the coach of the Titans?”
I regret that I have but one star to give.
I was sitting at home, reading this post on the shitter, using my designated shitter-device (a 2013 Nexus 7). As I scroll down, to just below JP Finlay’s tweet, Chrome displays an advertisement...for Maryland personal injury attorneys, with a picture of a dude in a wheelchair with a broken leg. I tried to screenshot…