And there it is…

I have a feeling tonight’s Steelers ravens game is gonna be an all-timer

Wild. If this happened in Chicago, this guy would be buried in the backyard by now and nobody would ever speak of this again

Hunter Biden is on a mission to make me like him. And he’s crushing it

There was this massive flop of a club in Vegas a while back called Kaos. They spent more money than God on the build out, (like $700 million), and then on stealing away everywhere else’s big name DJs and acts. They had Cardi B, Skrillex, Marshmello, J Balvin, and a bunch of other big names. For the grand opening, they had scheduled Skrillex to dj before Travis Scott. Scott was scheduled to go on at 1:30am. Around 4am when he still hadn’t showed up, and Skrillex had finally gotten tired of playing, (think he spun for like 6 hours), the club emptied out. Scott finally showed up around 5am, 4 hours late, and almost fought club management who tried to tell him get lost. He demanded and fought to go on, and played for about 200 people. One of the craziest disasters I’ve ever seen. Talk about a cursed grand opening. Place closed like 6 months later. This guys a great artist, but sucks as a person

There’s some fucking random weirdo off the street sleeping in our suite tonight. Thankfully, Katic checked a couple bags… in those bags were a iron sight crossbow with explosive arrowheads and his great grandfathers civil war issued muzzleloader in case anything goes awry

Aka John Gruden is going to become a BILLIONAIRE when they settle this. Good for him. Fuck Goodell and the crooked owners

Alright I have a big confession to make. And I'd like to thank Joe Flacco for helping me to muster up the courage and admit a dark secret. For YEARS I treated the host stand like a parole hearing. “Yeah, my date’s running late.” “She’s stuck at work.” “Her plane got diverted to Newark.” I’d stare at my phone like it owed me money, while the smell of seared steak and garlic butter tapped me on the shoulder. The truth was pretty simple actually. It was just me, a menu, and a dumb little voice in my head that was embarrassed to say the words- table for one. The night everything changed was a soggy Thursday evening in New York's West Village. The spot- Via Carota. The dining room was slammed. Resy was looking like a Taylor Swift ticket queue. There I stood like a mammalucco, thinking a table was just going to magically open up for me at one of the hardest reservations to get in the city. But as luck would have it, the bartender gave me a little head tilt to the only open stool. I made my way over, sat down, ordered a negroni that snapped with cold, and watched a plate of coniglio fritto aka fried rabbit hit pass by me on a runners tray with a crisp skin crackle you can hear. Ten minutes in, and I realized I had been playing this game on Hard Mode for no reason. Full menu. No wait. Actual conversation if I wanted it. Silence if I didn’t. Cheat code unlocked. The game was officially changed. Which brings me to Joe Flacco, patron saint of bailing shit teams and even shittier general managers out, and, apparently, the early bird special. He said the guy eating alone at the bar is in heaven, and it hit me right between the appetizers. I felt that like I haven't felt anything in a long time. It is blunt. It is funny. It is the truth dressed in sweatpants. The solo bar seat is the one place in a busy week where you control the clock, the playbook, and the soundtrack. Joe Flacco could not be more correct if he tried. MY BLOG - barstoolsports.com/blog/3…

lol. Like clockwork… they’re not even good at hiding it anymore x.com/interstellaruap/sta…

Gold

I'm not crying for anybody who nets 20 million a year to play a game. But when are we going to wake up and realize what a fucking scam taxes are around here? This country was founded by guys with actual balls, who said fuck you, I'm not paying your stupid fucking tax. And they fought a war against the biggest superpower in the world over it. Then they set up a new country, built upon, and intending for the same bullshit never to happen again. But now it's worse. Now we just bend over and take whatever we're told to by fucking morons who couldn't cut it in the real world, and/or fucking criminals robbing us blind. It's insanity. End rant.

This scumbag was in the suite next to us at the Super Bowl. (It was the raiders box by the way. NOT either of his teams residing in the state he governs.) Slimiest guy I’ve seen in a while. (He was chumming it up with Jim Grey. That’s all you need to know.) Anyway, I say all this to say that Dave, Gaz, Jerry, and myself all went out of our way to ignore his ass all night. Start of the 4th qtr he goes to leave, and leans over the divider to extend his hand, shake hands, and introduce himself to @FeitsBarstool. It was at that point that I realized John’s gone Hollywood. And he’s never coming back…

Does anybody realize that Diddy stopped doing his 4th of July white parties and this try hard creep ball swooped right in and assumed the role? No? Ok. Cool