It’s one of those moments: you remember exactly where you were when you first heard it, what you were wearing, who you were with. We were at the Count’s castle, and I was totally naked. The Count was a big Nicki fan — ever since he’d moved to New York to do Sesame Street, he was really into the hip hop scene there. He played the track, and we were just stunned. We just stared at each other, our mouths open in shock. Cookie crumbs tumbled down my chest.
Count finally broke the silence to inform me that Nicki had spat 265 words in that blistering verse. That was always our biggest argument about rap. I loved the swagger and the vibe and the wordplay; Count just loved the word count. …
“(Nick) Saban is a big believer in oatmeal cream pies” — Sports Illustrated, 1/6/2018
When you’ve won six championships in eleven seasons, everybody wants to know your secret. How you train, recruit, motivate, practice, and, year after year after year, win. And while there are many who’ve earned their place in 21st century Alabama lore, if anyone deserves credit for the Crimson Tide’s dynasty, it’s me, the gooey filling of an Oatmeal Creme Pie.
Most folks heap praise on Nick Saban, now the winningest college football coach by titles in the history of the sport. There’s a reason Coach Saban has a statue outside of the stadium: he’s a master of defensive schemes, fussing at anyone within earshot, and never appearing remotely happy or content, even after a half-dozen championships or creme pies. He’s what makes Bama Bama. Well, we make a creme pie a creme pie, and he eats two of us each morning, so who’s the G.O.A.T. …
Hello! Thank you for ordering with Custom Teez! I wanted to reach out and let you know that we are currently out of stock of the Midnight Blue t-shirts you ordered with “Civil War” emblazoned across the chest.
I am so sorry to disappoint!
However, we do have a few other options that I think will work well for you and your buddies. Are you guys doing like a big group outing or something? That’s gonna be so fun!
For something similar to Midnight Blue, I’d start by checking out Deep Sea Blue, Steel Blue, or even Independence Blue. …
In this house, we believe
Black lives matter
Women’s rights are human rights
No humans aren’t illegal
Science is real —
Hold up, that can’t be right.
No, really — science is real.
I mean the thing before that.
The thing about illegal people?
Right, you used a double negative, which kind of negates the meaning you were going for.
Oh, I see — so take out the negatives?
Some human beings are illegal!
Nope, that’s not —
Did the exclamation point help?
It did not, no.
I’m sorry, I got this sign from our son’s virtual piano teacher Denise, who lives down the street. …
Well, you tried to screw this up. There are about 7,500 reasons why your playoffs shouldn’t be starting today (Marlins-Cubs is quite high on the list), and yet, start they shall. You’ll hype these Wild Card coin tosses like they’re some cross between the 1988 A’s/Dodgers World Series and a dude slaloming through mountains of cocaine on a March Madness betting spree. And the playoffs will start — presumably, they will start; that is, if the the players can continue their stunning about-face after the entire Marlins organization, half the city of St. …
In Netflix’s hottest new reality show, Too Hot to Handlebar Mustache, ten of the sexiest guys in the world are gathered on an island paradise. This spicy show features all of the classic reality show tropes: tanned and bulging pecs, alcohol- and testosterone-fueled hijinks, and sexual tension that pins you to your couch cushions. Except this time, there’s a twist: no contestant is allowed to grow a handlebar mustache.
You can imagine the looks on the faces of these ten virile men — and the audience! — when they find that out. Here they are, a group of dudes handpicked for their perfect bodies, eminently hateable personalities, and razor-agnostic facial hair, expecting a four-week romp with their buds on the beach, only to find that no handlebar mustaches — or facial hair of any kind — will be permitted. The show’s ultimate challenge for the would-be hirsute hunks is to foster deep male intimacy without the whiskers. …
Dear residents of Grantland Avenue, in the year 2520: I hope rent is still cheap.
The fact that you are reading this seems promising, as the future of human civilization is looking a tad bleak at the moment. Remember sixth grade? When you asked out Aubree by the hand sanitizer fountain and had to do that whole project on the coronavirus pandemic? Yep, that’s us! This is the coronavirus pandemic.
And by the way, your class presentation where you explained what you learned over your two-day self quarantine was actually quite spot-on, and deserved better than a B+, even if you snuck outside to throw football with the neighbor kid and the TikTok dance you performed for your giggling classmates was both historically inaccurate and racially insensitive. …
The Leftovers ended last night. Kevin Garvey, after two trips to the Purgatory Suites, came home.
How he found his way home — and to a home filled with, well, his family — is remarkable, and beautiful, and chilling, and the perfect way to end this Miraculous Season 2, and, if you ask me, the entire series.
This finale did not reveal much in the way of huge, October 14th-related mysteries or answers, but we get a few small-time ones: a resurrected Kevin now remembers watching Evie and the girls fake their departures (brilliantly, in a scene in an animal quarantine — the tension of the scene heightened by dogs panting quietly in the background, these dogs, unlike us, being the only viewers able to breathe at this point — John asks Kevin, “What made you remember?” This make-you-remember business is what the Guilty Remnant has always been about); we see what John’s birthday present from Evie was; a now-conscious Mary (perhaps she too defeated her adversary at the Purgatory Suites) confirms that she was awake during sex with Matt; and the explosion-less bomb Meg drops is simply that everyone in the camp is secretly in the GR. …
In the Nashville hoops circuit, a lot has changed in the past year.
Two local kids — Darius Garland and Dylan Windler — have become first round draft picks. Jerry Stackhouse is the new head man at Vanderbilt, while beloved Belmont coach Rick Byrd has left for retirement. Belmont and arch-rival Lipscomb both sported the best teams in their respective histories, while new coaches breathed excitement at TSU and Middle Tennessee. It would not be hyperbolic to say that the Nashville Pro-Am, which kicked off yesterday afternoon at East High School, is at the center of it all.
While so much is changing in the city’s basketball gyms (every major college in the city has changed coaches in the past two years), the Nashville Pro-Am returned on Sunday, with all its familiar beats and rhythms: pre-game dunks and in-game wisecracks from host Young Quael, hip-hop hammering as young and old cram into the bleachers. In the ever-shifting basketball landscape, the Pro-Am seems to be putting down roots: East High School is the league’s now-permanent home, and the gym bustled with players and fans alike. League founder and CEO Rasheed Walker zipped from one side of the gym to the other, shaking hands, welcoming players, handing out issues of SLAM Magazine. …