I am “I see a routine tackle in an NFL game and say ‘oh gosh’ out loud” years old.

Proud Villanova alum here alone in my living room, rooting for the Cats to hold Penn State under 700 points.

Seeing A Crow

It is with great regret that I inform you I have decided to put on pants today.

1,000 times this ⬇️

RFK Jr in this hearing:

Reposting this tonight for no particular reason…

David Muir: “Tonight as we come on the air, a dangerous virus breaking out in at least one state… We’ll tell you *which* state if you can guess which number I’m thinking of between one and 500,000.”

Saying "I'm otherwise a really good person" and "I deserve lenience" really quick before they turn off the lie detector

Wondering if “Trump” appears in the Epstein files more or less frequently than “the.”

“Hey Dad, what are ‘the Epstein files’?” my son asks, as I burrow deeper and deeper into my couch and beat myself with a 7 iron.

Based on Fox’s coverage so far, it looks like the winner of the MLB All-Star Game will be determined by some kind of dance-off.

There should be a ‘Die Hard’ prequel called ‘Old Habits.’

Watching ‘Field of Dreams’ for the 8,000,000th time, and this is the first time I’ve noticed that two hot dogs and two beers for Ray Kinsella and Terence Mann at Fenway Park cost a grand total of $7.00.

Movie you’ve watched more than six times with a gif. Hard mode: no Star Wars, Star Trek, LotR, Marvel.

Post a pic of you that’s not actually you.

Very comforting that the absolute dumbest racists in the country are being allowed to decide who gets to be a citizen.

Don’t worry, everyone. The guy who had to be told by network producers whether or not to fake-fire Bret Michaels from a reality show will soon decide whether or not we should bomb Iran.

Reminds me of Michael Scott declaring bankruptcy.

As a kid in the ‘80s I discovered and loved Brian Wilson’s and the Beach Boys’ music before I did so with the Beatles’ and most others. I remember dubbing my parents’ copy of ‘Pet Sounds’ from vinyl onto cassette so I could play it in my Walkman. Which I did, endlessly.

Please Like Me

Ran my lawn mower through ChatGPT and now I’m “driving efficiencies in domestic yard travel.”

Get in, losers, we all are going to die.

Me: Do I drive all of you crazy with my questions? My 14-yo son: (sigh) I don’t even know anymore. So proud— he’s got ennui at a 12th-grade level.

So much for making it through the rest of today without wanting to shatter something.

“So many coffees after 4pm” will be on my gravestone, though probably in the fine print with things like, “Always told his therapist he was feeling fine.”

I often walk around the house thinking out loud as a way of helping myself remember certain things. As a bonus, this habit also helps my kids remember things that they will describe to their therapists in the coming decades. #qualityparenting

Me: [lip-syncing to the music blaring in my ears as I mow my yard] My neighbors: Oh man that guy is so cool

RFK Jr’s voice sounds like someone filled a pair of sneakers with sand and then threw them into a running dryer.

Muppets Tonight was something else

Improvise, adapt, overcome.

This is fucking sickening.

Happy Easter!

So I’ve spent the evening devoting most of my attention to the Giants/Phillies game and Trump has committed like a dozen more impeachable offenses?

Not the answer they’re looking for, but true nonetheless.

Current mood

My all-encompassing expert analysis for your Monday evening is that everything is fucking stupid right now. Enough to shift tectonic plates, I know.

This week has been a hell of a year.

Just put on the Music Choice ‘60s channel and I’m singing “There’s a bathroom on the right” with CCR.

Tonight’s reading.

My three brain surgeries have all been performed by medical professionals, but every time I turn on the news it becomes more likely that my fourth will be a DIY job.

Today is my elder son’s 14th birthday. If my calculations are right, that makes me… 208.

I feel like we’re rapidly approaching the day I just grab a stick of butter out of the fridge and bite into it like a Snickers.

Totally of his own volition, my 11-yo son has washed a bunch of dishes the last two nights and told me he wants to keep doing that. We now go live to me with my reaction.

Watching ‘Heat’ for the first time in quite a while. It remains one of my favorite films, except that now I spend a few scenes muttering “Fuck Jon Voight.”

Son-Of-A-Bitch Mouse Solves Maze Researchers Spent Months Building theonion.com/son-of-...

So this is how it ends. Not with a bang, but with a [yelling at Zelenskyy].