yin: “Well, it is only pre-season football, but if you really want to watch it, I’m okay with that.”
yang: “No offense? But until you can turn your head into a plate of hot wings, I’m not really all that interested in what you’re ‘okay with.’”
yin: “Well, it is only pre-season football, but if you really want to watch it, I’m okay with that.”
yang: “No offense? But until you can turn your head into a plate of hot wings, I’m not really all that interested in what you’re ‘okay with.’”
BECAUSE OF THE SPICY GOODNESS!
Man, that Demarcus Ware is everywhere.
Drew Bledsoe resembles nothing so much as the slow, sickly gazelle straggling behind the rest of the herd… mmm, succulent.
Yin: Do you really want to pay six dollars for beers at games that don’t even count?
Yang: For a chance to see a bunch of coke-snorting, bling-flashing, pregnant-girlfriend-battering steroid freaks cripple each other? Thereby totally effing up the owners’ plans for the real season? Hey, who wouldn’t?
Turing = ask, as in If you have to ask, you’ll never understand.
That’s funny, my wife loves football of all stripes but just barely tolerates my watching gritty 70’s police dramas.
Dude, this shit is escalating. It’s gonna be okay, isn’t it?
Oh sure. Yin and yang have a kind of chemistry that tends to balance things out.
Well, whatever the chemistry, it might be advisable not to let things reach the stage of West Virginia foreplay (“Get in the truck, bitch.”)