Here we go again, with the Delayed Edition.
:: "Thanks to hurricane Wilma, nothing has crapped on our Eyewitness News van for hours. Back to you, Bob." (Yup, the guy who writes Dilbert has his own blog. He needs to link stuff, though.)
:: Bills fans know that during the Gregg Williams Era, offensive play calling had hit a low point. (Wow. I can only stomach bitching about the Bills once a week on my blog; here's a person who's doing it every day. But Gilbride was no patsy. That guy's playcalling sucked, to the point where while he was here I started to understand why Buddy Ryan sucker-punched him on the sideline in the middle of a game once.)
:: I found the Holy Grail of Halloween candy, apparently. (And what that turns out to be is pretty gross, in my well-considered candy opinion. Brand new blog to me, btw.)
:: The time has come to imitate the crusaders in one regard: we have to start acting like pilgrim-tourists, wandering around and being amazed by the great sights and sounds of this astonishing city. (Fascinating travel blog.)
:: I used to be fairly certain that my lucky number was
7, 455, 820, 904, 935, 183, 271, 212, 791, 373, 340, 425, 311, 460, 379, 540, 855, 446, 291, 772, 158, 133, 611, 781, 626, but it turned out I was wrong. (Paul pointed this one out to me. Good blog on the general topic of skepticism.)
:: In a perfectly just world, von Braun would have been hung. In a perhaps more humanly just world, after being accidentally detained with the survivors of Peenemünde von Braun would have been a suicide victim, found after he had laboriously beaten himself to death. But von Braun gave us the worlds of the solar system, and so, for the most part, we praise him.
I should be back on schedule next week. Or maybe not. I'm a puzzle.