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Why anyone would need “Ten Ways to Organize Your Bookshelf” is beyond me, since there is only one correct way to do so: first, separate the fiction from the non-, then sort each by genre, then arrange alphabetically by author, then organize chronologically by publication date. Duh.

Tonopah, Nevada’s creepy Clown Motel is for sale. “Oh, I’m going to miss the clowns,” says the owner. “I’m going to come back. I’m going to come back and visit my clowns.”

The metaphysics of the hangover: “The light did him harm, but not as much as looking at things did; he resolved, having done it once, never to move his eyeballs again. A dusty thudding in his head made the scene before him beat like a pulse. His mouth had been used as a latrine by some small creature of the night, and then as its mausoleum. During the night, too, he’d somehow been on a cross-country run and then been expertly beaten up by secret police. He felt bad.”

This, folks, is some seriously good advice: “Kill your notifications. Yes, really. Turn them all off.”

Tardigrades are tough. They can go decades without food or water, endure temperatures from absolute zero to 300º Fahrenheit, and withstand the vacuum of space as easily as the pressure at the bottom of the Marianas Trench. And radiation? They laugh at it. The only way to kill ’em, it seems, is to boil the oceans. Which will happen in, oh…seven billion years or so.



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