Brian Donovan

FedEx Kinko’s is America’s premiere destination for copies, presentations, and business printing. Yet whenever I go in there, it feels like the store could be more efficiently run by puppies and easily confused clowns.

I wanna confess, not to something I did, but to something I’m definitely going to do. You see, I’m going to kill my personal trainer Tony, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

Dan hands him a giant bag full of Chick-fil-A chicken sandwiches. God rips into the bag and starts eating.

It’s a strange feeling, opening your closet every morning and seeing a bunch of crappy clothes, and then one super-nice suit that isn’t really an option unless you kinda wanna look like an idiot.

Your instinct is to feel bad for my cat, but seriously, don’t. She’ll be fine. She just has to swallow some vitamins everyday — the one to feel bad for is me, because I’m the one that’s gotta make her do it.

I mean, if Netflix knows everything about us, how we’ll react and respond to a variety of stimuli, why are we wasting this power on a movie? I say it’s time we put Netflix in charge of our entire lives.

So I said you must have a phone that couldn’t text, that I heard those existed somewhere, and then I walked out of the room. Because, honestly, I didn’t want you to text.

Why, after too many terrible dates to count, and only a handful of encounters that can reasonably be deemed successes, am I still trying to meet people online? I mean, if every time you opened your front door, a guy hit you in the face with a hammer, you’d probably stop opening the front door, right?

I’m gonna say “the beach isn’t really my thing,” and then they’re gonna ask “how can anyone not like the beach?!” with shock and dismay, as if I just told a 6 year-old that Santa doesn’t exist.

Because there’s something considered a little off about a guy and his kitty. In fact, typing the word “kitty” just now gave me a little bit of seizure. But I am here to speak out on our behalf. I will endure the shame no longer. I am a male cat owner, and I want sdfsgar3ea! Sorry. My cat walked across the keyboard.

You know the early reviews for Dark Knight Rises aren’t going to be that great. They’re going to say “It’s a wonderful movie, but it didn’t really live up to the hype.” Which makes sense, because I don’t think an event has seen this much hype since the invention of losing your virginity.

On Newsroom, the anchor is a blustery, opinionated jerk who believes he’s always the smartest guy in the room. In a newsroom, Keith Olbermann hasn’t had a job for months.

Dancing along in their flattering workout clothes, sweating just enough to look glistening and invigorated, it’s a sickening display. Especially when I glance at the mirror in front of me and wonder why no one has called the cops.

I hate you. I mean, I don’t hate you hate you. I just resent you deeply. Like the way you resent an older, more successful sibling.

I quickly learned that this was standard operating procedure for the MicMan. He would hit the bars at 7, get Lindsay Lohan level intoxicated, then come back to our dorm and throw it all up onto our poor, innocent carpeting.

Almost instantly, Karen became a national celebrity. America felt terrible for her, as we rightfully should, so heartbreakingly sweet and apologetic interviews with Karen can now be found across TV and the web.

There is no clause in a guy’s instinct that says it’s OK to slap a girl as long as it’s after midnight and she’s really turned on.

But then… you think of something. Something you read on a website once. A promise of a topic so fertile, so rich with conversational opportunities that it can save any date.