RFK food rates a two out of ten. To get a two on the ballpark scale, basically the food has to not contain visible rat feces.

More often than not, “hold one nostril” nose blow wannabes end up attempting to wipe a sticky handful on the grass.

My teammate was particularly proud that his girl bought him stuff and gave him money. In other words, I played ball with a man-whore.

For the first time, I seriously considered whether I should be wearing pants.

When I find his emails interspersed between my documents I say, “Whoops, here’s another Bob Fredly* email” and everyone in the meeting laughs.