I got a bit sidetracked while preparing to write about my Super Bowl prop bets. Quite the adventure ensued...

The Devil went down to Georgia. I mean Louisiana. Close enough.

The night I found myself in the lobby of a Courtyard Marriott, covered in hot dog relish, about to die.

I've never enjoyed something more thoroughly, and I probably never will.

My public high school education at its finest.

How I stirred the pot, created chaos, and stuck it to the man. All while wearing hands down one of the worst Halloween costumes of all time.

My high school biology class was a wealth of valuable information.

A surreal adventure through the underbelly of the Las Vegas Strip.

Making fun of my roommate shines a light on my lack of knowledge in the field of thermodynamics and makes me feel like a fraud.

My obsession with dry rub chicken wings got me banned from the 40/40 Club in Manhattan. Sorry Jay-Z!

A journey through 6000 calories, 14 fast food joints, and at least 3 epic arguments amongst friends. Come conquer the Fast Food Gauntlet.

As I lick my wounds from a rough start to the NFL season, I revisit the absolute worst gambling day I can remember.

How and why I decided to become a diehard Philadelphia Eagles fan just minutes before their Super Bowl-winning 2017-18 season.

A thrilling workplace drama involving borderline mail fraud, c-plus political satire, OSHA violations, and an unlikely office friendship.

An evening filled with statistics, debauchery, and mistaken identity under the bright boardwalk lights of Caesars in Atlantic City.