The Taylor Swift Tour starts back up tomorrow… and there’s a football game too.

Congrats to the Eagles and their fans! And now, let’s begin the annual Super Bowl traditions: crying about bad calls, insisting the Bills should’ve been there, and pretending to be outraged by the halftime show even though we barely watched it.

I’m sensing a Taylor Swift hit coming out of this… We Are Never Ever Winning Together

Unless you’re still learning the alphabet, it’s Valentine, not Valentime.

If you’re worried about Musk spying on you, try reading the iPhone terms you blindly agreed to. Apple knows more about you than your mother.

People expressing outrage over the U.S. halting humanitarian aid to Africa with phones made of minerals mined by African children under hazardous conditions… is irony that’s hard to ignore.

You don’t need a sign on your dog… its filth alone was enough to keep me from petting it.

Today is the perfect day to shop. There will be no lines with all the outrage warriors at home posting about the boycott.

Ah yes, the internet’s finest war strategists have arrived.

The View is all about diversity…just as long as that diversity doesn’t include a Y chromosome.

Dear magician: I promise your trick will still work even if you don’t snap your fingers.

Libraries are for people who aren’t willing to accept the internet has won.

Is it time to start hoarding toilet paper again?

I offer the kind of emotional support that makes you wish you hadn’t said anything.

The last time we got into it with China, a bat sneezed and shut down half the planet.

Katy Perry’s space trip was so quick, by the time she got back, Elon had already fathered two more kids.

I unsubscribe from your emails. Then you email me to confirm I’ve unsubscribed. Not sure you fully grasp how unsubscribing works.

I’m so disconnected from WrestleMania, I had to ask if it already happened or if we’re still pretending it’s real.

A week ago, eggs were a financial decision. Today, they’re part of a scavenger hunt.

It’s called a birthday, not a birth-month. You’re not a zodiac sign, you don’t get 30 days.