Serving up lamb in a rare, delightfully nasty way

One of these days I'll write a longer post about the joys of discovering the fiction Roald Dahl wrote for adults, rather than children (most of us only know him by his "Matilda" and "Charlie and the Chocolate Factory" books). It's twisty, detailed, tightly-written and often delightfully nasty. But for now, I'll send you to…

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Pacing 101: The Walking Dead, and how not to end a season

UPDATE: Long term fans of "How I Met Your Mother" may also be experiencing bouts of pacing whiplash. I didn't watch the series except hither and thither and liked the ending, but I'm not invested in it. Either way, this article makes points I'm also making here: Too much, too late, ruins things. (Hey, spoilers…

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Type it, and the words will come. Trust me on this.

As I told M Sunday night around 12:15 am (so okay, it was early Sunday morning), it's easier than breaking rocks to get paid to cover the Oscars from the comfort of your own home office … but six hours in front of the TV and computer screen ain't for wusses, either. We got home…

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