I'm with Moonshiner on this.

About pasta machines: It's not that hard to find a drill bit that allows you to turn out the pasta with an electric drill instead of hand-cranking.

I hear ya, but that's still putting the job of checking on the consumers. Rather, it should be the pharmacists' job to give notice.

Straight women and gay men, . . .

This is just bullying women, plain and simple.

Obligatory Serpico quote:

Serious answer? I'm amazed that I even have to say this: Divorce court, people.

I take my mother's advice in this matter: open caskets are just tacky.

The dirty little secret about anger is that on a certain level, it feels terrific. It gets you pumped up and energized in a way Red Bull never could. That some people continue to go for that particular buzz isn't surprising.

On the plus side, every time you see the name "Bryan Fischer" attached to an article, you know exactly what's going to be in it: something that sounds as if The Onion had a parody column supposedly written by an incredibly clueless neurotic who was utterly obsessed with other people's sex lives.

The plural of anecdote, as they say, is not data. "Numerous stories" do not constitute hard evidence—especially if they're of the caliber of "a report on Yahoo a couple of years ago."

I'm no particular fan of kid beauty pageants, but has anyone seen the slightest hard evidence that they're actually harmful?

"Thank you."

Forgive the obvious-stating, but for a guy who doesn't approve of homosexuality, he thinks about it an awful lot.

Does anyone else think the central figure in the video still above looks like Geoffrey Rush?

Confession: As you might know, we're electing a mayor in New York now. A couple of months ago I went to some friends' "meet the candidate" event. Their candidate [1] greeted me and shook my hand, and then he turned his head to the side, apparently to offer his cheek for a kiss. This happens a lot at private political…

If this were available when my sisters and I were rugrats, my mom would have claimed we were adopted and traded us for something practical.

And the last disaster happened—where?

Try this: mix the anchovy paste with butter or olive oil. Spread it on Italian bread (baquette, whatever) and heat/broil it—whatever your usual procedure is for garlic bread. It's not bad.

Unlined 3 x 5 index cards