:: I've heard of fore-edge paintings on books, but to my knowledge I've never seen one and certainly never owned one. What am I talking about? Watch!
:: Who needs a bicycle lock?
:: Ten terrifying highways. I would cheerfully drive any of these, except one. Guess which one! [shudder]
My personal most nerve-wracking, but also eye-popping, drive of all time is probably US 14 across northern Wyoming. I remember driving that road years ago with The Girlfriend (now The Wife), and at one point I looked up at this giant mountain to our left and noted the presence of cars on this harrowing-looking road way, way, wayyy up there. And then a minute later, I realized that was our road. That was an amazing drive, though.
:: It seems to me that whenever you see a headline that some kind of crazy shit happened someplace, more often than not, you can assume it happened in Russia. I'll say this for the Soviets: they really seemed to keep a tight lid on the crazy over there. This week's case in point: two guys get into an argument, over the merits of prose versus poetry. The discussion turned into an argument, fueled by vodka, and ended when the poet stabbed the prose-stylist to death.
Most insane is the linked article's last graf:
The killing came four months after an argument over the theories of the 18th-century German philosopher Immanuel Kant ended in a man being shot in a grocery store in southern Russia.
Ummm...wow. Note to self: Never discuss, well, anything with anybody in Russia!
More next week!