You push the monk, forcing him to stumble backwards a few steps before regaining his balance. He quickly returns to your side, his robe rubbing against your arm. Though frustrated, you refuse to hit him, regardless of how he acts. Instead, you grab his pamphlet, nod thanks, and pray that he leaves you alone. The monk stops you as you try to pass. He removes his robe, revealing a perfectly pressed police uniform. Your arm is snapped in half as he throws you to the ground. Six additional policemen appear. Chad tries to run, but they gun him down. He drops the ice-cream container as he falls. The urine spills out against the dusty street towards you leaving your face covered with your tears, piss, mud, and the barrel of a gun. "What did I do?" you ask. The officer states that you assisted a Tibetan monk in spreading false reports and the punishment is death.
Simply put, if I had Johnny Manziel’s physical gifts, you better believe I would be there in the Weight Room, getting to bed early, doing whatever I had to do to be the best possible athlete I could be. I wouldn't be posting on social media about sucking titties. I wouldn't even look at a titty, buddy. I'd look at a titty and see two big footballs.
A real friend doesn't move until the middle of August, ensuring temperatures in the 90s and a humidity that turns boxers into moist balls of ruined cotton.
Expendable? You must be joking.
The Something Awful front page news tackles anything both off and on the Internet. Mostly "on" though, as we're all incredible nerds.