I learned recently that several fathers have let their children read this Bullshit. I’m seriously thinking about calling Child Protective Services.
I’ve ranted, raved and complained like a 2-year-old with no cookie about the United States Tennis Association. And just when I thought I was out for good, they pulled me back in.
Jesus was sitting with him at bar in the Third World Club when the first signs of a metaphorical exoskeleton started to cover the douchebag millennial’s body.