Baconator fries are a thing?
The Oceanic Preservation Society projected images of endangered species on the south side of the Empire State Building last night to raise awareness of their plight.
For those of you who couldn’t be there, here is a peek:
To learn more about what is being done to save these creatures, and what you can do, visit www.racingextinction.com.
Ms. King didn’t enjoy your phone calls, and who can blame her. Your customer service representatives called her — after she explained that they had the wrong number — an additional 74 times to harass her about a previous client’s unpaid bill.
Now a court says you owe her $229,500 under the Telephone Consumer Protection Act.
So, call me instead. I’m an actual Time Warner Customer. I even pay my bills. And I’ll only charge you…$1,000 a call.
Everyone should have an opportunity to read the closing paragraph of the Supreme Court ruling–authored by Justice Anthony Kennedy–that has changed our country for the better.
All the discussion of late around the Confederate flag brought the band Lynyrd Skynyrd to mind, since that flag is part of the band’s logo.
(I didn’t use that version here on The Sticky Egg because, um…no.)
That led us to talking about where we were when we learned about the plane crash that killed half of the band members.
[If you’re too young to a) know who Lynyrd Skynyrd is, or b) remember the plane crash, move along.]
I was in bed asleep. The phone rang — a corded phone, no less — and I walked down to my mother’s bedroom to answer it. A good friend of my oldest brother was on the line, and he was crying. I may have been young, but I knew a call that late at night could only mean one thing…
Someone had died.
We woke up my brother, who came to the phone in a fog of sleep. We heard him say, “Oh no. Oh God. Oh no.” Then he hung up the phone and turned to go back to bed. We stopped him, saying, “Wait — what happened?”
He said simply, “Lynyrd Skynyrd died.”
I’m not sure either my mother or I knew exactly what that meant, so we went on to bed. When we questioned my brother the next morning, he barely remembered the phone call.
But it stuck in my memory, all these years — the day Lynyrd Skynyrd died.
I’ve heard of throwing pizza dough in the air…
…but throwing pizza as a punch?
A Florida man threw a hot slice of pizza at his roommate, who called the cops.
And they arrested him.
Since this incident occurred in Florida, it’s really not all that surprising. What is surprising is that the guy didn’t eat the slice when he threw it at him.
When life gives you lemons, buddy. It is pizza, after all.
Congratulations to 2015 Triple Crown winner American Pharoah, the first three-year old to do so since Affirmed in 1978. And now his name will live forever along side that of past champions Secretariat, Seattle Slew and Citation.
He’s a Kentucky thoroughbred, of course.