All signs point to Saget

What a bizarre historical twist, the American Coliseum beginning with a sitcom dad’s family-themed blooper show.
Don’t fret, though. It’s much too late now.

So I guess I’m an atheist, but I guess I still believe in some shit, too.

Lifetime: television for fat chicks.
Spike: television for fucktards.
(Balls yeah, that loser just got his faced ripped off! Red Dogs and teen porn subscriptions on the hiz-ouse!)

“Generation Me“. Though not a, say, studio-polished recording, Hillsdale’s own have one of the best honest-to-hell rock songs of the last five years.

So you’re the White House and a NFL superstar leaves the game to fight in your unpopular dickmove war. Politico-propagandist high-five! What could go wrong? Hmm. Maybe the Washington Post uncovering how you shot him in the back and destroyed the evidence.

Maybe it’s just because I have an absolute mancrush on Jim Gaffigan, but the recent Sierra Mist commercials are terrif. The Mist-takes are the most perfect comedy troupe in the country despite trying to sell you shittyass Sprite. Go capitalism!

“But Fortune here, that saucy Whore,
Disturb’d me worse and plagu’d me more.”
-Ebenezer Cook (1708)

Sammy Cyclone

More liquors should take themselves less seriously like tequila does.

Don’t talk to me about the weather unless there’s a fucking hurricane.
On that note, Hurricanes should opt for Hispanic rather than Christian given names, i.e. Hurricane Eustachius vs. Sammy Cyclone.

Laid-off. A Microsoft Paint styled cartoon about “that guy” who could turn out to be you or me or you and me in six years.

Anything can be an insult if directed as such, like:
“Get a load of Mr. Two-Arms over there.” or
“Uh. Look at Steve, all talking to people and shit.”

A few of the better prison reform organizations:
Stop Prison Rape
Center for Juvenile and Criminal Justice
Justice Policy Institute
Building Blocks for Youth