Many things are strange things and here are things from our writings. Interviews, adventure trails, cooking recipes and homebrew breakdowns.
The lower you go, the further back in time you venture. Delight.
#ThisIsTelAviving - 2 new photos added at 1600 hrs of 14 March
Standing near a wrestler just outside a clothesline's reach and volleying questions to their answers has got to be something close to an interview when the transcript is done.
The greatest trick the devil ever pulled was making people think he didn't exist. Jim Davis, on the other hand, sits in an cloud fluffed by others where he no longer works directly on the Garfield comic strip. Causing controversy to right that boat and steer the light back onto his hands was enough to muddy, and seemingly dispel, the rumours for at least another year.
Purple, round and defiant; they know it as Grimace. If you prick him, he may bleed purple. But he is not a Klingon. Before you can visit death upon your enemy, you must know him. So what exactly is this Mcdonaldland resident?
This is an attempt to understand the newish British television series Red Riding. Due to the regional accents, the muttering, the byzantine plot, and that British inability to provide subtitles, I am writing a detailed synopsis to get my head around this excellent television show. In short, it is nothing but spoilers, spoilers, spoilers...
Ladder of flavour? A few rungs above bland. This can be constructed & delivered in less than 30 minutes, depending on your aptitude with a knife.
Down on the chamber pot, the percolating smells brew up quite the nasal fest. From the wafting fumes, the air solidifies partial sweaty rock and musty punk, a taste hinting at delicious pockets of after-aftertaste, and the not so floral punch of an undone music interview leaves the tongue wanting something else.
Dark and neverending is the trail of a labyrinth below Edmonson County, Kentucky. Beyond the shallow graves and lime walls, Mammoth Cave is the literal long tail of cave systems. Alas, no minotaurs or woolly mammoths call the caverns home.
If what can turn a foul mood around becomes the harbinger of the foul mood, what happens next? Turn it into a learning experience. And when that learning curve makes a late break over the plate, you'd better start to swing away.
It doesn't take a big man to admit that he drinks. It takes a big man to get wasted and perform impromptu sermons naked from a balcony; raving upon the ravages of the insanity of strata by-laws and noisy offspring in adjoining apartments...
The journey toward enlightenment need not begin in any particular direction so much as that it needs to begin at all - and if you create your own beery reality with which to illuminate yourself, enlightenment can indeed glass you in the jaw in the comfort of your own bathtub.
80% alliterative. Deliberate? Subconsciously. All normal thought stolen by the weight and treachery of the outdoor world. A world where a boy has to battle all manner of foes armed to the teeth just to find the time to get back into the kitchen where he belongs.
Enough to return. Enough to go back. Still, just not enough to sign up and be among the legions to call Scientology the religion of choice. And it has nothing to do with being an atheist or having something of an aversion to peanut butter in most forms.