Look at that this cute otter. He's sitting at the table, eating his food, like a well-behaved critter. Fret not, things go downhill from here.
Nobody likes a Facebook spammer. You know, those people who you went to high school with but haven't talked to in ten years who seem to do nothing but water their FarmVille crops and maintain their CityVille cities. They're the worst!
If you've been to a lot of concerts, chances are you've talked smack about an opening act. It's something of a time-honored tradition—we don't really want to see opening bands! They are, after all, just warming us up for the show we paid to see.
Last night on the way back to my apartment in New York's Lower East Side, I saw a crowd of men standing around two motorcycles. I'm a fledgling rider myself, as well as newly returned to the city. I'd spoken to these guys a few times before and did what I typically do when I see a guy on a hot bike: walk up and ask…