I’ll be 35 in December. The average life expectancy of a male is 73 years in the U.S. I’m currently in decent health, so let’s say I’ve reached the halfway point of my impending mortality.
The question is, can the Jets win a Super Bowl in 35 years time?
If you just say that Cormac McCarthy line "you never know what worse luck your bad luck has saved you from" a couple of times per week you'll feel better
Is the sick truth of marriage that you just oscillate between the polarities of “we have nothing in the fridge” to “are you even going to eat the four containers of pickles” until one of us croaks?