passtherolaids.com
             ...did it to do it 
eat shit now

Announcements

Bomani Jones looks like he has AIDS.

My most constant fantasy these days involves firing myself out of a cannon then shooting myself out of the sky. With the same cannon.

I really only have 1.5 default doodles.

We recently made a concerted effort to gather and organize all our water bottles.

If it were truly necessary for your friends both to get you and to always be willing to show you they get you I'd have like no friends.

It'll probably be six months before I can return to the Ace Hardware on Beaver Ave. after that employee caught me appropriating a paver brick churned up by the construction out front.

In my life Lebron is and has been a far more incendiary topic than like abortion or politics or whatever.

WHen you're telling a story about super-gluing the tips of your middle fingers because they split in the dry winter you can have both middle fingers extended and on display the whole time, as visual aids, and your students will love it.

Most great athletes don't know what makes them great and/or can't convey that shit.

Every time a kid asks me if I washed my hands after using the bathroom I tell them don't ask questions you don't want to know the answer to.

The most tempting behavior to interpret is tailgating.

We need to invent an expression to replace the expression "reinvent the wheel."

When you watch Ben Roethlisberger highlights in a mirror he looks like the second greatest left-handed quarterback in the history of the NFL!

If rather than me a friend had created Passtherolaids I could never read it 'cause I'd be too jealous.

The China One Int'l buffet has its own friggin block.

Nothing sticks to anything like mozzarella sticks to a plate when you're microwaving leftover pizza.

The best thing about "Donnie Darko" is that Seth Rogen is limited to a dumb little character role.

I've decided to start saving flimsy taco shop napkins to blow my nose with.

The description of cherries as nature's candy is so fucking apt.

Nobody wanted to say it and everybody was thinking it but nobody wanted to jinx it: that was the most pleasant summer ever.

I don't eat nearly enough popsicles to know how to handle it when it starts falling off the stick at the end.

I just realized for at least the twenty years as much as anything I've been chasing the last laugh.

I remember after Edgar died and I drove him back and buried him on Columbia Rd. writing a thank you note to the vet that ended "we had a great ride" - I remember liking that line.

Pretty cynical, park benches placed right next to trash cans.

If you really want to upset a turtle flip him over then flip him off.

They gave me a new toilet.

You know it's been a tough class when even sleeping pigeon is miserable.

The best songs are those recorded by Tegan and Sara then remixed by Morgan Page.

When you spill a rum drink on your Qwirkle pieces simply throw them in a strainer and...coland them clean.

There'd been rain then sleet and thunder then hail then snow and this girl asked if it was the end of the world. Without waiting for a response she said if it was she was gonna hurry home and make a frozen pizza before it went down.

Peeling an orange with a really tough peel that comes off in like 40 little pieces is a lot like peeling a really stubborn sticker off a hard surface or, especially, like, the clear plastic that's wrapped around grocery store bouquets.

If you're a shitty indie band and you want your music to be on a commercial for a yuppie tech product ironically emphasizing individuality all you have to do is write and record a song that includes a repetitive "soaring" chant sung in unison by a man and a woman.

That Dido song "Quiet Times," when I first heard it I thought she said "I can't have you, you're in your head." When I discovered she actually says "I can't have you, even when you're here," I didn't feel as able to relate to the lyrics. Then I thought about it and I was privately embarrassed, in my car.

There was never anyone to root for in the RG3/Shanahan/Snyder situation.

I like make a point of not buying everything I need when I go to the grocery store just so I have a reason to go back soon.

Brian Petta burns scented candles in his car while he's driving.

I took the trash out at Busy Bubbles and this was there by the dumpster so I took it.

Some years ago my parents spilled a box of packing peanuts in their side yard and when I go back I try to get them all up but there are always a few peanuts floating around no matter what. The point is I may never need another metaphor.

When great shows become self-referential the magic is gone.

cURIOUSLY: THE KIWI IS AND HAS BEEN A STAPLE OF SCHOOL LUNCHES ALL OVER THIS COUNTRY.

i CHANGED UP MY DRAWERS SO THAT MY PANTS ARE NOW WHERE HALF MY TSHIRTS USED TO BE AND THERE'S NO TELLING HOW LONG IT'LL TAKE ME TO ADJUST.

I've asked my students to stop raising their hands and start lowering their bodies.

The thing is: playing disc golf alone is great because there's no small talk but the moment it becomes clear you won't approach your personal best that day it all feels pointless and you'd kill for a friend to beat and the two of you could bitch about how six is pretty much an automatic bogie when it's playing short.
 
We buy used houses, any condition.

Slouch is one of those words you almost never see without no in front of it. 
 
Being after a terrible player in a scrabble rotation is a bit like going after a terrible shooter in a multiplayer game of HORSE. This isn't all that similar to the situation in poker when a terrible player goes out on a ridiculous hand early and makes whoever took him or her out the sudden favorite.

 
When you're playing catch in some shallow water and you lay out for one it's not a completion unless you hold the ball out of the water even as the rest of you is totally submerged.

A chip or a cheeto dropped on a hard carpet isn't such a big deal. Step on it and it's a goddamn disaster.

You either buy fountain drinks or you don't.
 
An alien left his shades on the sidewalk.
 
When I thought I'd lost the cap to this pen I determined I was willing to take the cap from this pen in order to save the first.
 
One of the worst smells out there is dog shit run over by a lawnmower.

 
Though they've joked about the biggest boozer, they likely haven't suggested, as we have, that the winner of this contest be the first to drink himself to death, with the grand prize being a lifetime supply of alcohol.

The worst time to say "that's what she said" might be if someone were to clutch his or her neck and gag, "I'm choking."
 
When you hear Tiki Barber remember Wally Sczerbiak as "tan" you're reminded that the little bugger has never considered anyone but himself.
 
On TV people puke after hearing disturbing news.
 
I'm reminded - by everything - of the administrator who made us listen to the Counting crows' "Color Blind" with our eyes closed, told us to visualize all the children whose lives we'd affect in the coming year.

Sadly there doesn't appear to be any correlation between "inability" to say texted and general intelligence.
 
On a recent sunny Wednesday: I was charmed to see my trashy neighbors climb onto to bicycles, fishing poles extended over handlebars. "So," I smiled. "They fish." Ten minutes later I settled on the patio of my coffee shop, looked across the street and saw their bikes leaning against a pawn shop. They came out empty-handed and romance was dead.

 It's so great that, since EspN took Monday Night Football, not only do their match-ups seem to be less "marquee" compared to those on Sunday night Football, but the monday Night games themselves also seem to be played at a consistently lower level. Such is the stink, and the rot, of ESPN. It pervades.
 
Fruit of the Loom is a great brandname.

I've said it before and I'll say it again - your cleat bag, gentlemen, doubles as a terrific toiletry pouch.

For the record, I proposed rocking out on the deck of a WWII destroyer several days before Stephen Colbert announced his Stephest Colbchella '012: RocktAugustFest, to be held onboard the USS Intrepid. See directly below.
 
My imaginary band Archipelago...our first album's gonna be called "Island Hopping." On the cover - me and the boys shreddin' on the deck ofa WWII destroyer. No big deal.


Carmelo Anthony's body is comparable to that of Richard Simmons.
 
My father is right - the enthusiastic affirmative "absolutely" is criminally overused.
 
You never really know a player until he plays for your team and you can watch him on a near-nightly basis. 

I used to eat a peanut butter and honey sandwich for lunch every day. I'd make the sandwich the night before. I always put off making the sandwich, dreaded it, because to make the sandwich would be to acknowledge that tomorrow was coming like it or not. Now i take instant oatmeal for lunch and my evenings are much more pleasant.

when you send a thought-out, personal email to a person who has a smartphone about fifty percent of the time they'll respond within ten minutes with something like "Doing well. Miss you too. Will write more later." And you'll never hear from them.  In such situations, the "sent from my smartphone" note at the bottom of such emails should instead read "I never meant to hurt anyone."


The patriots lost the super bowl because they rubbed it in the Broncos' face with a meaningless fourth quarter quick-kick three weeks earlier.

The two "Times" that tend to remind me in particular of the fact that man is but an animal: 1. When I'm running down a mountain, trusting my instincts to negotiate rocks, drop-offs, loose gravel, hard turns; 2. When i have the misfortune of seeing a man washing his ass crack in the showers at the YMCA.

I spilled OJ in my refrigerator. It needed cleaning anyway. So that worked out.

It's officially terribly cliché to cite pictures and videos of cats as evidence of the ridiculousness of the internet.

For the first time in my life i'm conflicted about when i'm shaving. I've always been a night showerer, and I'm committed to that lifestyle. But I tend to only shave every other day - or every other night, rather - and i feel like i'm wasting 12-16 hours of good-lookin' time on my pillow while, by mid-day of day two, i start to look pretty grody. But, then, a perk of shaving at night is that overnight the post-shave neck redness has had a chance to mellow. So you see I'm conflicted.

Beck stopped trying a long time ago.

The precise moment when sportscenter sold its soul was when they got rid of "Plays of the week."

From now on my motto will be "if you don't play d, you don't play for me."

It is insanely cliche to introduce a review - often annual - of anything as "the good, the bad, and the ugly."

I suspect collusion between all dry-cleaners and all manufacturers of pleated pants.

Jon Stewart is more guilty than anyone of overusing "humorous" word combinations like Mugic - Music plus magic equals puke.

I'm at peace with the fact that most songwriters are at some point going to rhyme the words "walk" and "talk."

For some time now it has been incredibly cliche to suggest that the biggest cliché in all of sports is "we're taking it one game at a time."


I'm ready to buy an obnoxious NASCAR raceday t-shirt. Done. 
Website Builder