I have a long list of things that make me mad.

I hate Danny Kaye movies.

To call New York's traffic at holiday time a nightmare is to understate.

Every time I nostalgically try to regain my liking of John McCain, he reaches into his sleaze bag and pulls out something malodorous.

William F. Buckley was a man who had a great capacity for fun and for amusing himself by amazing others.

Does anything show the complexity of the miraculous brain more than that weird curiosity, the sleep-protection dream?

I eat at this German-Chinese restaurant and the food is delicious. The only problem is that an hour later you're hungry for power.