Last weekend, as some friends and I drove past the lovely harbor city* of Baltimore, someone mentioned how he used to work at Under Armour. Apparently, the jock-frat mentality goes all the way to the top, where chest bumps are not out of place at board meetings. So it's not some huge surprise that their employees' language isn't exactly ready for network TV. Still, I always appreciate a good F-bomb on TV. Click-clack and such.
*Lovely harbor city, decayed urban dystopia. Potayto, potahto.
Props: Deadspin, whose editor, it should be noted, no longer sports emo bangs.
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