Alex Pyles (the journo)
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Alex Pyles is a piece of s***. Literally. He is the smelly, soft, yet well-formed log of human waste that floats atop what would otherwise be the punch bowl at my life’s party. He’s a piece of s***, and my sworn enemy.
There was a time when we could have been friends, a time before he started to be “that guy." Ooh… Alex was awarded the UMBC English Department Journalism Award twice, the MDDC Reese Cleghorn Internship, and the NCAA Sports Journalism Scholarship Award. Ooh… Alex is attending the Philip Merrill College of Journalism, one of the top schools in the country. Okay, we get it Alex. You want to tell people who, what, where, when, and why like woah.
As though it wasn’t enough that the bastard is the former editor of The Retriever Weekly, a regional flag-football champion, and a marathoner, he just happens to have beautiful blue eyes you could cannonball into and a robust beard that would dry you off when you’re done. That’s not gay, that’s just the truth I have to live with every single day of my miserable life.
Somehow things went from me being the smart, responsible one to me being the phallus and flatulence guy to Alex’s Mr. I’m-So-Charming-That-Dan-Must-Be-The-Enabler-In-This-Hetero-Life-Partnership. I’m sick of this bulls***. If you see Alex on the street, go out of your way to kick him square in his undoubtedly gigantic balls.
Just make sure you have a hose handy to clean off your shoe, because Alex Pyles, is a piece of s***.
Dan Sager (the funny one)
F*** Dan Sager.
That’s right, f*** him. I don’t care what you say. Just listen to what I say: F*** Dan Sager.
Who the hell cares that he’s got a master’s degree in social work from the University of Maryland, Balmer? Who the hell cares that he went into an accelerated master’s program because of his top-notch coursework on the way to a bachelor’s degree at the University of Maryland, Balmer County?
Who gives a flying F*** that Dan spends eight hours of his day trying to help rehabilitate troubled inner city youth at a detention center? Who gives a s*** that he’s never told thank you for that kind of utterly selfless work?
I mean honestly, who the f*** cares that he gets told to go f*** himself by 14-year-olds everyday, but goes back the next day anyway hoping that he can make a positive difference in the completely f***ed up city we live in?
Who the f*** cares that Sager does this work despite his immense talent as an improvisational actor and creative writer? Despite that fact that he could make more money doing less important work? Who the f*** cares that you literally have to smash him over the head with a beer bottle to stop him from paying for the next round at the bar?
The answer, of course, is that we all f***ing care.
So ladies, please, f*** Dan Sager.
Dave Malinksi (the tech guy)
Dave Malinski is responsible for all the technical aspects of this site and therefore not to be trifled with. His knowledge in the field of computer science so surpasses the idiocy found in the other Baltimorons that his inbox is flooded on a daily basis with questions like: “Why won’t the damn post show up on the damn screen?” and, “If my Mac runs hot, how come slamming the screen onto the keyboard results in such a lousy Panini?”
But Dave is a merciful god and will immediately misuse his Internet connection at work to fix the problem or give sound advice on prying Gouda from under the spacebar. The only thing he ever requires in return for his tireless service is the occasional beer, the even less occasional cigar, and the unceasing adoration of those lucky enough to gaze upon his beautiful baby-face. So, without further adieu, some praise for Dave’s penis:
[Edited for impressive, but graphic, content.]
Zak Bratcher (the whisper)
Zak Bratcher may be no more than a rumor of a whisper. While there are some fanatical organizations that claim to have proof he actually exists, all supposed hard evidence has been debunked as blurry pictures of coat racks with a fedora perched on top at the slightest of angles.
All we think we know comes from stories that have been passed down across the generations and embedded in that dark, fearful corner of the human soul. Stories that cause people to turn around in an empty room, swearing that someone or something is awkwardly staring at them from behind a trendy scarf while singing along to some band no one has ever heard of.
The Zak Bratcher of legend wields a $200 Shun chef’s knife and keeps repeating that he’s going to kill you until eventually you reassure him that killing you would be something a cool person would do, then he pounces.
It has been prophesized that, should he ever return to write with the other Baltimorons, it could bring about worldwide disarmament and usher in an age of peace. However, since there is just the one “I” in “The Happiness of Others”, Zak Bratcher remains disinterested and will forever wander the earth in pursuit of the perfect IPA to go with veal parmesan.
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