Real quick, check this out.  Despite not playing soccer since there were orange slices and juice boxes involved, I signed up to bring my broad-shouldered aggressive to my company’s coed soccer club.  I asked if someone could give me a few training sessions so I could go from a baseball player to a footballer and simply attached this picture:

I mean, who wouldn’t sign up?

So this week is normally a favorite.  Motherfuckin’ home towns.  It’s that special time of the year where you finally can confirm or deny that awful sinking suspicion that it is, in fact, your family that is preventing you from getting a ring put on it.  That’s a real thing, ladies (and gents).  While you technically are marrying one (1) human, you are also committing yourself to a life of dealing with another family’s set of shit that may make no sense compared to…