Maybe you’ve heard this one from Paul Harvey. Can you guess who it is? “Escape! Of all the positions in the field of journalism, that of war correspondent is perhaps most dangerous. Some are captured, some escape. Some die. Twenty-five-year-old Leonard Spencer was the London Morning Post’s newest correspondent. His assignment was the Boer War,
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Saw it this morning in the distance as the sun rose. Alas, my #$!#$ camera is a pile of junk. The pictures it took were crap. Just crap. So imagine the peach rain. And then imagine me hucking the piece of trash in the garbage and getting something that works.
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The bee. We slather its delicious vomit on bread and muffins. We send colonies out to pollinate our crops. Now Colin Henderson and his University of Montana colleagues have partnered up with bees to “locate buried land mines” and do it more quickly and thorougly than any dog. “We can survey in one day what
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On your left you may observe King Charles the 1st of England, the man who mandated the collection of urine. It was a patriotic thing. Dude. I love, LOVE, finding out how they used to make things. And it seems that making gunpowder back in the day spawned all sorts of jobs that beg to be put
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I miss the squirrels we had at the old homestead. No, that’s not hyperbole. Until two years ago the six of us lived in a 900 sf home my wife’s grandmother homesteaded for. But that’s beside the point. We had squirrels there. They chittered, ran about, tossed apples down at my girls when they tried
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