Kirk Cousins spent his Independence Day somewhere scenic in his home state of Michigan, where he spent his time, uh, grilling some kidneys, apparently?
What the fuck is happening here? What are these perfectly smooth and featureless lumps that Cousins is bringing off the grill without so much as a single grill mark offending their brown-as-hell surfaces? Are these densely packed burgers? Misshapen, unidentifiable organs? Literal clay pigeons?
Apparently, he does this type of shit pretty often:
Once again, not a mark on them. The man loves his polished lumpsteaks.
Even the dog knows that this isn’t right, Kirk Cousins.