I'm taking the tree trunk to my pal Serdar, who turns Christmas stumps into soup spoons and other keepsakes -- ornaments, baseball bats, pestles, nose rings, whatever.
College football's brand should be based right here, in the shadow of these stained-glass mountains, where every Jan. 1 the drum lines flail and the angels cheer.
Psssssst, here’s America’s dirty little secret: There is no record of anyone ever keeping a New Year’s resolution.
As you know, words can be bourbon, words can be gin.
Cryptocurrency? I’d probably be better off giving them walnuts – any item of actual value. Gum, for instance.
If you like the Pentatonix, I’ll probably propose. No kidding, that’s what their music does to me.
Personally, I find Vegas a little snoozy, especially compared to real party spots like Pasadena or Glendale.
Roswell orders a martini as if reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, with reverence, and olives on the side and citrus along the rim.
By tradition, we often do an “encore turkey,” to ensure that we have leftovers all the way through July. A Hobbit’s second breakfast.
Good to have Smartacus home, though there were instantly piles of socks and shoes in every corner of the house, and I still can’t find my charging cords.