If you’ve ever played with G. I. Joes outside as a kid, then, every once in a while, you’ll still notice an “environment” in which it would be cool to set them up. This, for example, looks to me like a nicely defensible position.

If you’ve ever played with G. I. Joes outside as a kid, then, every once in a while, you’ll still notice an “environment” in which it would be cool to set them up. This, for example, looks to me like a nicely defensible position.


Coca-Cola came to town.
Pepsi-Cola shot him down.
Dr Pepper fixed him up.
Now they all drink 7-Up.
— I remember this childhood rhyme from standing at the bus stop in the early 1980’s. (I was pretty amused when Mikey Wagner rattled it off one cold morning.) There are a number of variations to it, including one that is apparently unique to Britain.
I usually avoid soda entirely — my dentist had a couple of things to say about how bad it is for the teeth. (It’s not the sugar; it’s the drink’s acidic effects on enamel.) But tonight I indulged in a Dr Pepper anyway. Hey, it’s my favorite, and Roanoke is the Dr Pepper Capital of the world.
Oh, by the way, I only learned tonight from the article linked above that the beverage is correctly spelled “Dr Pepper,” with the period left off of the “Dr” part of the name. Weird world.

Also known as “The Island.” Germany. HBO Nordic.


It’s like the scissors are cursed or something. (Hey, that’s the start of a horror story — one of you get on that. I’ve got enough works-in-progress as it is.)
The solution is obvious — I need to never gat a haircut again. Maybe I’ll develop super-strength, like Samson. After a lifetime of trying in vain to develop superpowers, I figure the universe owes me.



Formerly The Patrick Henry Hotel, it opened in 1925. It’s got its own share of ghost stories, and one of them is pretty intense.
It kinda looks like it could be haunted, you know what I mean?
