We've all wondered whether our parents and even grandparents set up Facebook profiles to be more connected with us or to keep their eyes on us.
And now we pause for a moment of silence to acknowledge the long-awaited death of the diseased politi-joke that was state Sen. Mike Haridopolos' legislative career.
Caution: This column is not for the mentally weak or irrationally bigoted. This is not a religious debate or political plea; this is a call for open-mindedness and acceptance. Stop reading if you hate equality and don’t advocate change.
The saddest part about all of this? Not a sliver of surprise was felt by any of us.
Saturday night at the club downtown could get a bit more expensive in the near future, and contrary to the city's hopes, we don't think that's going to attract more customers.
If you weren’t in front of the television watching the United States play Brazil on Saturday, I feel sorry for you. The women wearing the red, white and blue showed incredible resolve in one of the most epic comebacks the sport has ever seen.
I've been back from Vietnam for seven years. I spent the first three in a drunken New Orleans haze. The next four, I drove for Hoffa's Teamsters.
For those who are living in a cave and are unaware, the final Harry Potter film debuts in U.S. theaters Friday.
When a 168-year-old British tabloid read by millions goes down in the flames, we have to say something.
On Monday, we recognized a day of legendary bravery in an onerous battle for life, liberty and happiness. We put aside our political persuasions and forgot our delusions of enmity. For a brief moment, we all had long hair, figuratively sang "Imagine" by John Lennon and did indeed "live as one."
Last Thursday, my good buddy/managing editor/the-man-who-has-the-sense-to-never-let-me-run-a-Muhammad-cartoon Joey Flechas and I drove down to St. Petersburg for the annual Florida Press Association convention. For the few of you who don't religiously follow the inner workings of Florida print media, the FPA convention is where a bunch of godless leftist journos/"media academics"/anyone with a hard-on for the written word from all across the state gather at some palace of a hotel, dress up in outfits picked out by Stevie Wonder and try to outstroke each other in rhetorical masturbation. Essentially, it's like the Republican National Convention with the exception that there's a limit to how much free booze you can guzzle.
If you're looking for some sense of validation as to whether your expert hunch that Casey Marie Anthony is innocent or guilty, seek life elsewhere.
Like any good American this weekend, I drank Bud Light, shot bottle rockets at friends and saw “Transformers III.”
My Thai friend Sith starts a lot of sentences with "Maybe America have, maybe America no have."
I love America, and so should you.
American Atheists, a more-than-40-year-old organization that advocates for the civil liberties of atheists and the complete separation of church and state, flew aerial banners over several public locations across the country Monday that read phrases such as "God-LESS America" or "Atheism is Patriotic."At beaches and parks in 26 states, people saw these words fly across the sky.
On CBS' "Face the Nation" this past Sunday, John Kasich, the Republican governor of Ohio, did something that, for a politician on the Sunday political talk circuit, seems anathema: say something that not only sounds human but also makes sense.
Newspapers have had a centuries-long love affair with the First Amendment. Exercising our freedom of speech, after all, is our bread and butter. Whenever our favorite section of the Bill of Rights gets a shout-out in the news, we'd be stupid not to throw our two cents in.
This Monday, millions of Americans will gather in backyards, ballparks, churches and parade routes all across the country to celebrate the 235th birthday of the United States. For many of us, the Fourth acts as just another excuse to jet-stream unholy amounts of ethanol into our systems as we butcher another Lee Greenwood song and blow shit up. And why shouldn't we? It's American.
In summer of 2008, I walked into my first Senate meeting. Fresh out of high school, I thought I had found a good place to get involved. What I found instead was a disaster.
Solutions by The State News
