Everyday around the same time after lunch, my computer goes into a sort of production slump, much like me after lunch. We were meant to be together. PGP.

The USMNT waiting to play until happy hour on Monday. PGP.

My Pandora has played nothing but songs about quitting your job to move to the beach. PGP.

I brought donuts to the office today. My boss told everyone it was him. PGP.

My life is one part “The Office,” two parts “Office Space,” zero parts funny. PGP.

When I feel too lazy to work, I’ll answer all the SportsNation polls to look like I’m busy. PGP.

I got a job in my college town. So now when I’m out, I’m referred to as “that old guy.” PGP.

My only Tinder match in the past week ended up blocking me. I didn’t even say hi. PGP.

LinkedIn suggested that I connect with the officer who arrested me freshman year. PGP.