I bought a vinyl record yesterday called "Sounds Wasps make".
When I got home and played it, I said to myself, “This doesn't sound anything like wasps."
Then I realised, I was playing the bee side...
@chickenfootjoe Okay
Just a little pinprick
There′ll be no more
But you may feel a little sick
Can you stand up?
I do believe it's working, good
That′ll keep you going through the show
Come on, it's time to go
I expect Mamdani's public grocery stores will not offer significant price discounts relative to budget grocers. Thinking about his mandate they make things cheaper reminded me of "parchment guarantees" and this speech from Justice Scalia.
In Nashville I ordered hot chicken.
The woman at the counter was named Brenda. She did not ask if I wanted it spicy.
She asked how much of my afternoon I was willing to lose.
"Mild, medium, hot, XXX, or the one we do not put on the menu?"
A guest does not choose the lightest blade.
"XXX," I said.
Brenda looked at me the way a smith looks at a man who has asked for a sword sharper than his hands.
"You ever had this before?"
"No."
"You sure?"
"I am sure."
She wrote it down. No mercy.
It arrived. Red. Gleaming. Beautiful the way a warning is beautiful.
I took one bite.
For three seconds there was chicken.
Then there was only light.
A child at the next table whispered, "Mama, that man is glowing."
Brenda glanced once. "You good?"
I could not feel my tongue. I nodded anyway. A samurai does not negotiate with poultry.
She set down a glass of milk I had not ordered.
"On the house. Everybody gets one lie. Yours was XXX."
I finished it. The chicken won.
I returned the next day.
Brenda smiled, not unkind.
"Medium?"
"...Medium."
She nodded like a teacher watching a student finally read the room.
In Japan we test a blade by cutting, then leave the student alone with the lesson.
In Nashville they test a man by fire—
then set the milk down like a hand on his shoulder.
That is not cruelty.
That is belonging.
America does not ask if you can take the heat.
America brings the heat.
Then America brings the milk.
15 years old, throwing 92 mph. Throwing, but not pitching. Zero strikes. This is what happens when you take the Braves off TBS and fathers spend more time at the office than at home with the kids.