This is the most authentic season of The Bachelorette in history, guys! The first date was baking cookies in Emily’s “real” house, and taking the suitor to Ricky’s “real” soccer practice. (Kid doesn’t look like much of an athlete to me). She didn’t wear a custom made prom dress until about an hour and fifteen minutes in, and they didn’t even get on a plane until later in the show. And they got in a private plane to go to West Virginia. How disappointed must these guys be? Here they are, thinking they’re going to be jet setting to the Caribbean to make out with a mommy super model, and instead they have to ride in a suburban to a 6 year old’s soccer practice and they’re not even allowed to get out of the car. Tough times. Read more
The Bachelorette is back and it’s harder to make fun of than ever. Because Emily Maynard’s ex-fiance baby daddy died in a plane crash before she had the chance to tell him she was pregnant with their child, I’m going to really have to focus on the douche bag contestants and the fact that Chris Harrison is wearing a wedding ring. And the fact that this show is vastly unfair to people who are ugly. Read more
This post comes from Lakeland, FL native Jeremy Wilson. Jeremy wrote our first ever guest post entitled, The Curious Case of Jeremy (Lin). He is now joining us to blaze another trail and to help spark a debate. This is our first “letter to the editor”, in which he is responding to Colin’s post yesterday on why the NBA Playoffs are better than March Madness. He originally started writing it as a comment and then it kept getting longer and longer and was submitted as a guest post. Feel free to weigh in on the debate in the comment section below! Read more
This guest post comes from Memphis, TN native Warner Russell (@uncle_warny). We are glad he joined us for a post even if we are totally going to judge him for the contents of his post. Enjoy!
I’m just going to throw this statement right out there so you know what you’re working with here.
I watch the following TV shows with no shame: Read more
Greetings from 4,367 miles “across the pond” in a land where flags fly every few miles on the highway and my cab driver couldn’t be nicer, buying me “café”* during our brief stop for “petro” on the 99 km drive to Rabat, the capital of Morocco.
*Note this “café” was espresso in a plastic cup, I am not man enough for this but sip it politely.
Before I get too deep into what I wish I could call prose (wasn’t blessed with the writing gift, but if you need someone to give you golf lesson/argue why Omar from The Wire is better than Don Draper, Walter White, and Tony Soprano/argue the merits of why Abbey Road is the best Beatles album/go to a Phish show/schmooze the crap out of an audience… then I am your man). Read more