So much information lacks a good way to store it, especially when it's all digital; sometimes it requires old technology to go back and retrieve it.

And in his heart, I think, he's now learned what I came to believe, which is, as I've said all along, that the sun may burn brightly, and the faces of children may be plump and achingly sweet, but in the air we breathe, in the water we drink and in the food we share, there will always be darkness in this world.

After you're dead and buried and floating around whatever place we go to, what's going to be your best memory of Earth? What one moment for you defines what it's like to be alive on this planet? What's your takeaway? Fake yuppie experiences that you had to spend money on, like white water rafting or elephant rides in Thailand don't count. I want to hear some small moment from your life that proves you're really alive.

Never loan a book to someone if you expect to get it back. Loaning books is the same as giving them away.

Making eye contact with adults while dressed as a clown is risky.

Canadian winters are long. Life is hard and so is ice.

Los Angelenos dress like they've been focus-grouped.