Here we are, only weeks into the part of my life when I remembered who Tom Petty was, and he was taken from me. Or should I say, that I was taken from him.
With famous parents, you have the advantage of not needing to beat around the bush and pretend to be considerate of their feelings; you can just ask them for a job!
You know what I see when I look at you, Bill Gates? I see a guy who didn't need Networking Parties to build his empire. I see a guy who looks like me, except a bit toadish.
My favorite show, after The Apprentice of course, is Fox & Friends. I was watching an episode the other day, so good, so much about me, had to make a speech about it here.
Tim Cook's voice sounded almost dreamlike as it reverberated off the pillars and buttresses of the repurposed superchurch that served as Apple's Announcement Pod.
Every so often, abused dogs invade your television screen soundtracked by Sarah McLachlan's ubiquitous "In the Arms of an Angel." These are their stories.
Disturbing and introspective audio from Tom Hanks' handheld recorder, sent to me anonymously in the form of time-stamped .wav files.
Thanks to Showgirls, young women learned that contrary to outdated societal prejudice, exotic dancing can be a highly rewarding career path, especially in an ailing economy.
I don't get what the big deal is about this "once-in-a-generation phenomenon." How good could it really be? Also, should I kill George R.R. Martin?
Jared can come to the gym if he's supervised by an adult, but otherwise, all that big, heavy machinery makes it too scary of a place for a fella like Jared.
When will your muscle movement bracelets become widespread? And more importantly, will I be able to fit my children with them before I am driven to insanity?
I can see the results in the tone of my legs, and the guilt of being 100% responsible for the pontoon boat accident that took my father's life is now an easier cross to bear.