Wet farts have better diction.

“...grab his assistant’s crotch without her consent, mandated that she sleep in his bed during business trips, and drugged her drink during a business trip in Mexico ‘because he thought she was not “having fun...’”

And give new life to Fiona’s pilot-episode accent.

So funny, I snorted.

#Lionghazi

No room in The Good Place for you, Mike!

This is why the Padres are perennial also-rans.

He picked a bad week to stop sniffing glue.

Oh man, Tony Shalhoub + James Roday + Dule Hill = I’d watch that a hundred times.

Should NFL fans be allowed to tuck in their wear jerseys? Seeing a tucked football fan wearing a jersey makes me want to throw hot oil in their face.

What now? Let me tell you what now. I’ma call a coupla hard, pipe-hittin’ Klingons, who’ll go to work on the homes here with a pair of phasers and a dilithium crystal. You hear me talkin’, Romulan boy? I ain’t through with you by a damn sight. I’ma get 21st century on your ass.

I took this photo at a grocery store in Bonsall, Calif. (north San Diego County). More bombers than the Luftwaffe in 1940.

Native Pennsylvanian here who had a hard time readjusting to the Byzantine alcohol laws in PA during a visit last June. In Philly, a friend and I went to Trader Joe’s to buy wine...as we can here in Nevada...only to come up dry. Then, when visiting the folks in south-central PA, I went to the grocery store hoping to…

Oh, yeah?

#RIP Sgt. Hulka

This means nothing when you fail to incorporate the word “innovation.”

I agree, I do not foresee the negotiations being protracted.

You left out the Boston Molasses Disaster. #neverforget

The Curse of Len Dawson

Native Pennsylvanian here who limits himself to one (1) Yuengling per intermittent visit to the old folks at home. (So. Central PA has some kick-ass craft brewers, FYI.) However, I once discovered to my great surprise that it paired nicely with sushi at the Philly airport. Tho I also recommend you only eat sushi at…