Ted Pillow

Like it or not, eventually Hollywood’s going to remake everything, so we might as well roll with it.

Famous only children include: FDR, Frank Sinatra, Lance Armstrong, and Elvis. Oh yeah, and some dude you may have heard of, goes by the name Jesus. You might remember him as the guy who invented magic tricks and being nice to other people, though. So yeah, there have been some pretty rad only children.

Colt 45 or Old E? Oh dude, do you drink one of those sketchy knockoff brands? It’s malt liquor, man… sometimes it’s worth it to pay extra for quality.

If it’s BYOB, bring your own beer. If it’s a toga party, wear a toga. If it’s a search party, bring a flash light and tempered expectations.

For an example of how vividly these games re-imagined the world of sports, check out this amazing sentence from the game’s Wikipedia page: “When a player dies, their corpse remains on the ice and may be tripped on; between periods, a giant slug acting as an ice resurfacer eats the debris littering the ice.”

I think Shakespeare was trying to make some kind of strained fish/dolphin metaphor here, which only makes sense in light of the fact that I think he sent me these predictions after drinking all day (he’s kind of going through a thing right now).

Now, I know what you’re thinking — didn’t Shakespeare die in like the 17th century? Well, apparently not. Dude e-mails me all the time with NFL wagers and fantasy football tips.

Don’t bother reading past the second week of assignments and class topics; sure, it’s filled with seemingly important dates and course expectations, but that sounds like something for some indeterminate, future version of you to worry about.

Okay, Howie, A.J., Brian, Nick, and Kevin (especially Kevin); alright. I’ll show you the meaning of being lonely. But I think you already know it.

It’s like whoever used to design their layouts stopped showing up to work in 1993 and the editors just haven’t noticed yet.

Seeing two loose horses barreling unimpeded down a quiet street is a good way to shatter the familiar surface of glassy ennui encasing your typical Monday morning.

“On a scale of 1 to 10, would you rather be racist or gay?”