Kirk Cousins spent his Independence Day somewhere scenic in his home state of Michigan, where he spent his time, uh, grilling some kidneys, apparently?
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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.