This is Tim McGinley, catcher for the Boston Red Stockings (who, sadly, are not the original Boston Red Sox, but the eventual Braves).
I do believe I once read he was the first person to hit a home run in the NL, but I can’t find the source. He took a bean to the brain and got pretty badly shaken up by it. Though I’m not sure it immediately concluded his career, I do think it basically ended it.
He only played a couple years, and he was a Philly native, so I doubt there’s a close family relation, but dang, I can’t convince myself he doesn’t look like every male member of my family.
Cracked was challenged to put ice water on our heads in support of ALS. We have in turned challenged our good buddies/enemies for life CollegeHumor. This was the second time Soren and I covered ourselves in ice water together. The first time was for a different thing.
The first time remains a closely guarded secret and you’ll never get the details out of us.
INDIANAPOLIS, IN—Homicidal maniacs can no longer leave the house to kidnap a hitchhiker without wondering if they are next.
What’s bizarre about this onion article is it came out the EXACT same time as the first Dexter novel. So either somebody read the trades or saw it on a bookshelf and pitched it, thinking it wouldn’t take off, or ideaspace is just serving up tricks again.
Although Cracked’s policy is, as always, to encourage hatred of politicians, lawyers, and admen, and to demand that our readers throw flaming deuces at them on sight, that doesn’t stop us from studying their ‘loaded language’ techniques.
Taken without any context whatsoever, “family values” sounds fantastic. I’ve got two or three families scattered across the country, and I want only the best for them. … But, of course, we do have context, and by now we all know that “family values” has almost nothing to do with families at all, and instead is sort of a code word to describe the way various evangelical Christian groups perceive we should handle social issues. In our awful real world, “family values” can mean being against gay marriage, or sex education, or drinking in little red wagons. And if you are against those things, well, OK (you crazy kooks), but don’t go around calling this stance “family values.” That implies that only one type of family exists and that any family that, say, wants their gay kids to be happy, isn’t worth considering.
The longing for the elegance and masculinity of the fedora is real, but the realization of wearing one in the 21st century as being the act of poseur is even stronger. That’s why even in my novel, where the protagonist shares my name, I could hardly bear to let him wear a fedora. First, I made it his grandfather’s, and then I had his best friend call him a “hipster douchebag” the rest of the book for doing it.