There is no journalistic integrity and there never was. There's only the dogged pursuit of money, power, fame, and orgasm. And I'm pretty sure Spock knew that.
We could save the world, but there are a bunch of new shows on and a couple of cute girls coming over because I informed them that I brought over these drugs. So, nah.
Me: So you have a restraining order on your live-in boyfriend? How do you work that? Billie: It's easy. He loves me. And I love him... from five hundred feet anyway.
I really hope you're super afraid of Ebola. Because I heard that terrorists are gonna use Ebola as a biological weapon.
Do not tell me that the death of Oscar Taveras puts sports or entertainment into any kind of new damn perspective, because it does not. It just sucks.
Inside my phone are more distractions and sources of entertainment than one person could ever need. So as far as this date goes, you're in second place.
Me: We drove by the memorial for that Vonderrit Myers kid. Joe: We’re doing memorials for people who shoot at city cops now? Me: I guess so.
I can't grow a beard so I'll never be a hipster. My genetics are once again holding me back from being cool. It's like basketball camp all over again.
She told me she wanted to build a life together and then freaked out when I brought home the stem cells. Women never really know what they want.
You probably don't want to go to Ferguson, MO. But should you go, here are five things to check out there, the third most fun place in North St. Louis County.
Listen up, fat people: don't let Big Government tell you how large your soda can be, or that you need to get an hour of exercise a day. Start being fat and proud.
Unmanned drones are killing innocent humans every day on this planet, but all of that is weak sauce compared to a fictional methamphetamine empire TV show.