How Dare You Question Why I Ponder This Orb!
I don’t let my face betray what I’m beholding because I’m a pro, and I like to maintain an air of mystery, but sometimes it’s just like, yeesh.
Evan Allgood has written for The New Yorker, The Believer, McSweeney's, Vulture, Paste, The Millions, Weekly Humorist, Slackjaw, and others. He studied Satire Writing at Second City and Sketch Writing at UCB.
I don’t let my face betray what I’m beholding because I’m a pro, and I like to maintain an air of mystery, but sometimes it’s just like, yeesh.
See, right there, when A.J. Brown caught that deep ball! Did you feel that? That can’t be healthy.
To medal in the Turkey Trot, you have to defeat seasoned fitness freaks and erratic savages who only run once a year.
Scout is as energetic, spry, and sly as ever—the Paul Rudd of lab mixes. What’s his secret? “I sleep sixteen hours a day,” he deadpans.
Bulk of budget devoted to keeping Aragorn looking as wet as possible at all times.
Before coffee, I’m, like, a zombie feeding on its own, like… brains or whatever, and struggling to complete straightforward zombie analogies.
Who could possibly resist the siren song of a factory-farmed chicken breast wedged between two nondescript slices of bread? Plus a pickle?!
Missed You… Again You: A relaxing holiday. Me: Dehydrated, depleted, stuck in traffic. God, I want you so bad.
D-Mo had made a lot of gains over the past year, but he still had so many gains ahead of him. I guess that’s what makes this so difficult.