Favstar gets even better if you sign in.
To get good Indian food in the valley, you have to sign a Naan Disclosure Agreement.
I'm pretty certain that Passion Pit could make a killing selling novelty deodorant.
Today I went to the synagog for the first time in months. And got called irreverent. For attempting to stick a fake candle in my pants.
Dear UNC comrades: Ethan Sherbondy is visiting you tomorrow. You have been warned.
Twitter's settings page is good at dodging site redesigns.
New metric for how insane your weekend was: quantity of hats lost. Three.
30 minutes ago, I was stuffwhitepeoplelike in the flesh. Mango black tea in hand, eating mediterranean pizza from Zest at a Borders.
Somehow, over the past 4 hours, I've developed a habit of whispering "YEAH MOTHERFUCKER," upon competing menial tasks with my mangled wrist.
I have landed. In Northern California until Monday night. Let me know if you'd like to meet up.
Dear coffee shops, another way to keep people from lurking and using your Wi-Fi: play country music.