For anyone who's feeling the all-at-sea aftereffects of celebratory intemperance, and find their orbital re-entry into this new year a heat-shield-melting experience, we promise to go slowly. Apply the forehead ice. The soggy, greasy scudding along of a serious bout of intestinal crapulence today is instantly understood.
Everyone who wishes those darn butterflies would quit making all that rustling and flapping-around racket outside have our pity, not scorn. We'll simply wrap our feet in couch cushions -- like enormous Bullwinkle slippers -- and promise to not increase your agony with tuba practice or making you read in all caps.
While you're re-hydrating and giving wet, cautious, cotton-brained consideration to the possibility a bacon sandwich and some hair of the dog will be of more help than hindrance, we pledge to make no sudden moves and keep things on an even keel while you regain your sea legs.
Short and sweet is the rule today -- although we might mess with your head a tad, en route to providing you a crinkled grin or two.
Photographer Christopher Boffoli is up first. He takes pictures of a miniature world, using food. This usually takes some explanation. Here we go: Imagine a family camping in a sugar cone forest or skiers on the slopes of an ice cream sundae, for example.
On Monday, August 6, 1945, after six months of intense firebombing of 67 other Japanese cities,...
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