Now, my dears, I don't know how to tell you this. I'm so sorry to be the one to break it to you. Are you sitting down? Really? Good. Do you have a box of Kleenex? And some Ambiorix? You do? Well, then--there's no choice but to be out with it. Kris and Anna: Kaput.

I'm sorry. Are you okay? I know, I know, if those two kids can't work it out, what chance do schmucks like us have in this messed-up world, huh?

To help ease your pain, a few items:

From Deadspin:

From McSweeneys: Steroids: The Musical

And finally:

BatBusiness: Batgirl is closing in on a place to meet to watch the game on Tuesday and will post as soon as possible, though she is still taking suggestions of a good centrally located place. Why Batgirl, you ask. What's wrong with the Bulldog? We've enjoyed many lovely games at the Bulldog. Well, I'll tell you. The Bulldog owner won't have the volume on for anything but Vikings games.

But Batgirl, you say. Surely you told them you'd be bringing two to four dozen people into their fine establishment, didn't you? And surely that would be incentive enough to be a little flexible, n'est-ce pas? And I say, Oui! Oui! I did! I did tell them about all the customers and all the eating and the drinking and the money being exchanged for goods and services. And they said we don't care, we hate you Batgirl, and your stupid ass face.

So, there you go.