Let's assume he gets his way. The ethnic cleansing of the Palestinian population of Gaza is a complete success. The bulldozers roar in and the place is indeed turned into "the Riviera of the Middle East," as he claims he wants it to become. (Note: Beirut used to be "the Riviera of the Middle East" before the lunacy of the region overwhelmed it.) The casinos rise with a glow that can be seen on Sicily. Tourists from around the world are escorted from the gambling floors to five-star restaurants by the soldiers of the 82nd Airborne, who also will serve as bouncers in all the showrooms. You won't be able to get a room at the Trump Plaza-Khan Yunis, or secure a tee-time at the Trump Golden Dunes Country Club, which will quickly become a stop on the LIV golf tour. How long do we figure it will take before something blows up? A month? A week? A day? An hour? |
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Hey, it's better than grocery store roses. |
| A host can make or break an episode, rocket a sketch to virality, or keep everyone talking about 'SNL' deep into the week after it airs. But these stars did it best. |
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Through the lens of a security camera, we see two men standing next to a BMW. It's about 2:30 A.M. on April 4, 2023, and the car is parked in a secluded spot underneath the Bay Bridge in San Francisco. The owner of the car is wearing light-colored clothing. His name is Nima Momeni, and he's a thirty-eight-year-old IT consultant. The other man, dressed in black and gray, is a hard-driving and hard-partying tech executive named Bob Lee. A prodigiously gifted programmer with a zest for life, Lee, forty-three, is a beloved figure in the Bay Area tech scene with a wide personal and professional network. But here, in the middle of the night on a dark street, he is alone with Momeni. Minutes from now, Lee will be bleeding to death. |
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The Aerflo Aer1 lets you charge up your H2o with beautiful bubbles on the go. |
| On the great occasion of Culkin voicing a beluga in NerdWallet's Super Bowl commercial, we talked to the actor about A Real Pain crushing awards season, football allegiances, and yes, Pedro Pascal. |
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How are you feeling? We've just entered the New Year, a time of resolutions after weeks of festive eating and drinking. This is the year we swear we'll get in shape—but isn't that always the case? We hear about caveman diets, Ozempic, and Greek grandmothers who live long and prosper without ever unrolling a Pilates mat. Sometimes it feels like we've heard the word wellness so much it's lost its meaning. But I know plenty of wellness people, many of whom swear by fasting.
So in late November, I arrived at Buchinger Wilhelmi, where I would spend eleven nights (and eat nearly nothing on Thanksgiving). For seven of those days, I would consume only liquids that made up less than 250 calories a day. The experience took me to some strange places. I didn't flee the clinic, but my mind certainly did, and I fantasized about food I couldn't eat (including, for some reason, dim sum) and the beer I couldn't taste until—halfway through—I achieved my own version of enlightenment. |
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