"You sicken me," I growl into the mirror, in a farrago of creative and psychic self-doubt. "Are you even ready for some football"
— Degenerate Gandhi (@Bro_Pair) August 1, 2014
THE YEAR IS 2016. FACEBOOK DOWN FOR TWO YEARS NOW. AMERICA'S NEW MOMS ROAM THE STREETS. IS MY BABY PRETTY? THEY SAY. PLEASE LIKE MY BABY.
— Mark Agee (@MarkAgee) August 1, 2014
Pandora has spoiled me. Five seconds into any conversation and I'm looking for the thumbs-down button.
— Tim Siedell (@badbanana) August 1, 2014
Some people call me the Space Cowboy.
A few. Not many.
…OK, only me. I call MYSELF "The Space Cowboy."
Would you? Too?
"No?"
OK.
— Bill Corbett (@BillCorbett) August 1, 2014
The girls met a feral cat on the patio and fed it bacon. Now they want it to go away. Bacon does not make things go away.
— Popehat (@Popehat) August 3, 2014
Bacon is the magnet that draws us Bacon is the glue that keeps us here Bacon is the snooze alarm for the Rapture Because what if in Heaven there is no bacon No bacon Only Salvation, nachos and beer.
In Heaven there is no beer, that’s why we drink it here.
(I thought everyone knew that!) 😉