While it’s not a necessary component of being an awesome person, a well-selected affectation can help to make you more memorable and add an extra layer of pizazz to your every personal interaction.

It was May 1986, and my friends and I were looking for a new place to dance. We never dreamed that we’d end up in a fantasy kingdom, dancing to fireworks.

My penmanship may not be completely lost, but it is sinking. The first casualty of the Internet Age may be privacy, but handwriting is a strong second.

Back in the olden days, I used a hand-me-down hi-fi record player, and my trusty portable reel-to-reel recorder to make mixtapes. I’m sure that recorder came from Sears & Roebuck, because back then everything did.

I live in a town of 1,100 people. To be more accurate, I reside eight miles outside of town and my nearest neighbors are a quarter of a mile away. Those neighbors are cows.

This week: Depraved reading from Peter Bagge, tiny freaks from Kidrobot, and more love for Richard Elfman’s “Forbidden Zone.” One of us! We accept you! One of us!

I’m sure tons of celebrities have a Google Alert set up to look for their own name, but not all of them have time to follow up on all the blog mentions. Still, Mr. Wheaton, can you let us know if you dropped by?

Part of me wanted to talk to Cobain and part of me didn’t want to bug him, but now his own wife was encouraging me to go bother him. Maybe this was some sort of inside joke between them.

Cobain grabbed a hammer and proceeded to annihilate his guitar, going at the thing with pure hate. He then collapsed onto the floor, where he lay motionless for the next twenty minutes.

For some moments in time, there are no words. But we’ll fix that. We’ll do it for Oprah.