Here's your guide to the brave new world of shots.
Shots have emerged as a big part of our post-pandemic social lives. And it's not just a college thing. Why now? Why the sudden surge in slamming 'em back? Well, why not? It's a quick and efficient shared experience. A good icebreaker after a couple years of isolation. A round of shots is a way to signal Let's have fun fast. They force you to muster some courage, a bit of adrenaline. And then, once you've placed the small empty glass back on the table, a soothing warmth. For a brief instant, you feel aware of your body. You feel a little more alive. You may laugh. You may grimace. But you won't know until you take your shot. |
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Starring in not one, but two (!) behemoth superhero franchises, and already eyeing another season of his newest sitcom, 'Blockbuster', Park is finally ready to let loose. |
| Snag the best-selling running shoe ASAP. |
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A true clean-energy transition will depend on big, centralized solar and wind facilities, and the most productive ones will often be located far away from our population centers. Broadly speaking, they'll be in more rural areas in the middle of the country, while the majority of people live on the coasts. We need to move clean power from the places where we'll harvest the bulk of it to the places where we'll consume the bulk of it. To do that, we'll need to transform our power grid from more local systems serving local needs into something that more closely resembles the Interstate Highway System. We need to build some big-ass power lines, called transmission lines, to carry huge amounts of power across long distances. |
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And he knows why: "Every stitch feels like it's made of cable. Nothing's going to give on that suit." |
| Think of them as sweatpants' not-so distant cousins. |
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The horses knew first. Terry Thompson kept dozens of them on his farm just west of Zanesville, Ohio, a suffering river town and the seat of Muskingum County. Most of the living things in Zanesville had been born in Zanesville, or in the county at least; Thompson was one of the few importers. He had a particular eye for the unwanted. His horses weren't pretty animals except that they were horses: worn-out chestnuts, muddy grays, a semihandsome paint named Joe. There was even a donkey and a fat little pit pony in the mix, and now they were together in the pasture, more tightly packed than usual, running in a wide circle. They were rolling almost, the bunch of them moving slowly at first and now finding their old legs, picking up speed like starlings, like the bands of a hurricane. |
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