For some reason I can't pull up mlb.com this morning, can anyone tell me which team is tied for the best record in the American League?

I built a dumb news aggregator while watching Scooby Doo with my dog. Go play with it. Or don't. Whatever. Spooky Space Kook remains one of the best Scooby episodes ever.

read.thedamn.news

I hope I'm never a lyric in a Bruce Springsteen song. You're either a dumb fuck or you got killed by one. Hard pass on both.

Chad Juettner, a stupidly handsome middle-aged fella, and his just-as-handsome dog, Otis, both in Twins gear at Target Field.

We are seventy-five days away from the Twins home opener. Ten weeks. Two and a half months. Totally doable. It's been seventy-eight days since the last pitch of the World Series. Baseball is close. Kinda.

Screenshot of the Minnesota Star Tribune. There are multiple articles about the protests, ICE, and politics. There's one article about chicken wild rice soup.

Listen, I'm not proud of it but I clicked the article about the best chicken wild rice soup first.

In 2026 I'm hoping to learn the patience to read even a single LinkedIn post past the second sentence without mumbling, "Oh fuck off."

Just this. This is all I need. Simple.

Little afternoon skooch up to Two Harbors to chase some fall colors with the boy.

Just saw a clip of Diane Keaton on Facebook. A few career highlights. Really nice. Then an abrupt cut to an ad for the Timberwolves upcoming season showing Ant dunking on someone. Thought it was all one clip. Thought maybe Diane had a little ball in her. I dunno. Sundays.

If you send me an email please also send me a text letting me know that you've sent an email. Then send another text telling me what's in the email. Then never ever email again. Thanks.

Paddock’s ERA is over 30 and doesn’t show signs of coming down. We’re fine. This is fine.

Damn, MLB.tv is down which means I'm kinda forced to go watch the Twins game from the bar. The sacrifices I make for this team.

Quit thanking people at work, okay? Just leave the Teams call. It's okay. You don't need to send a message thanking anyone. Just read the email. You don't need to reply to everyone with a thank you. It's noise. Stop it. We don't care. The quieter you are the happier I am.

The handsomest dog in the world sitting on a chair in a bar in Northeast Minneapolis patiently waiting for his beer.

Listen, I know. These days everything is awful. I don't disagree. But being able to go to the bar with your dog? Decompressing with your best buddy and a few Grain Belts? That's not so bad.

Mort’s Martini Bar with a sign that says it’s jazz night on the patio.

Well this fucking sucks.

I spend a lot of time wondering if my dog and I have the same taste in music or if he's just putting up with my bullshit.

The Dylan Bobs.

Wrestling match. There's a fella flying from the top rope with a rainbow beard about to lay a goddamn haymaker on a bald bearded dude laying on the mat. It's perfect. It's art.

Do all the dumb shit. It's the absolute best. Jesus Christ.

Screenshot of my dumb ass registering the domain name fuckyeah.church for forty dollars.

There should be a breathalyzer involved whenever you register a domain name. This is hilarious to midnight Chad. Morning Chad will have so many questions. Fuck that guy.

Soul Asylum concert pic.

Soul Asylum. First Avenue. Maple Grove, Lakeville, Woodbury nannies just printing money tonight.

A cup of coffee, a guest check with "Abby + Chad" written on it. Taken at Ideal Diner in Northeast Minneapolis.

My daughter's first experience with being a regular. "But dad, what if I want something different?" "Sorry honey bear, this is who you are now."

I'm on a mission to fill boxes with of the most annoying Christmas gifts ever for my grade school aged nieces and nephews. So far each kid is getting finger paints, Fun Dip, Pixie Sticks, slime, a pickle that yodels, and Red Bull. I need help with more horrible ideas.

Holy shit. Perfect.

My beautiful brown dog, Otis, wrapped up in multi-colored Christmas tree lights.

“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter.” - Yoda.

I was there all day, baby. Green. Thriving. I barely knew what to do with myself.

The day after Thanksgiving is seriously one of the best work days of the year. Almost zero interruptions. No meetings. You're eating pumpkin pie for breakfast. It's exquisite.

Unfollow for cats is a solid policy.

Ten minutes into this Uber ride and the driver not-so-subtly turns off the passenger airbag. Understood.

Where's Bonnes on here?

Otis, my beautiful brown dog at the park this summer. Literally the handsomest boy you'll ever see and it's not close.

I've been trying to get into the office a couple days a week. Most of that time is spent looking at pictures of my dog and texting home to ask what he's doing. Time well spent.