I know there's no heaven. I know it all turns to nothingness. But I fear there will be some remnant of me left within that void. Left conscious by some random fluke. Something that will scream out for this. That one speck of my soul will still exist and be left trapped and wanting. For you. For the light. For anything.

You'll paint some nursery and the kid will want to sleep in a drawer.

It's a fact that every minute you hold a child, it triples in mass.

I posted some story about the Arizona State baseball coach getting into a fight with an autograph hound, and it was a disastrous thing. The guy rescinded his story. It proved to me that I'm not cut out to be a proper journalist. I'm much better sitting around and making fun of journalists and telling them what terrible journalists they are than being an actual journalist.

You're going to have Yahoo! and places that don't have rights being much more aggressive in how sports news is covered.

I've hated cockroaches my entire life.Tweeting jokes about it helps me cope, in a way. I'm not as jumpy killing cave crickets as I used to be. I still jump plenty though.

Thank God there's somebody that doesn't like Stuart Scott. I'm so happy!. It was nice to have that counter-balance to ESPN.