“Great sex for everyone, 24/7.”
This is the final line and premise from David Levy in his book, “Love and Sex with Robots.” He predicts that within five years, humans will be getting lucky with robots. Forty years from now, we’ll be falling in love with them.

[ February 1, 2008; 8:00 pm; ] First Friday Art Walk. Tour art galleries throughout downtown St. Augustine from 5 to 9 p.m. See art from local, regional and national artists, see performances by local musicians, and enjoy wine and other refreshments at various galleries. Visit staugustinegalleries.com for more information.

Sometimes it seems like nothing’s changed. It’s just a bunch of people in a bar, eyeing the crowd and laughing with their friends. Drinks are bought and conversations are had.
Then a guy pulls out his cell phone and reads “Where r u?”
He thumbs in: “JPs. its packed.”
Behind him, some girls rally around a friend lamenting that her boyfriend and best friend have been poking on Facebook for weeks.
“And I just bought him his own ring tone,” she says.

The James Bond might be the messiest sandwich in world history. I tried to corral it with my first bite, but the heaps of roast beef rode the huge tomato slice out the backside of the garlic bagel on a flood of melted cheddar. With cheese slathered everywhere, I plowed through the first of 47 napkins and smiled: They were right.

Oh, Coolio. Oooh, Britney Spears. Oooooh, Now That’s What I Call Music Vol. 8.

What the hell were we thinking?

Once you get a good laugh over why you bought that Kelly Clarkson CD, now you face another problem: What the hell am I going to do with all these old CDs? That is a much more pressing question than, Why did I think Green Day rocked?

Fortunately, we all have the same shame-pile of compact skeletons.
And here is a comprehensive list of suggestions:

After two days amidst the surfboards, bikini-wrapped models, and ever-flowing beer found inside Orlando’s Orange County Convention Center, I thought to myself, “Surf Expo is decadent and depraved.” I mentioned Hunter S. Thompson’s famous words to my fiancée, and she imagined Dr. Gonzo himself, Tar Gard cigarette filter dangling from his mouth, swatting at the scantily clad surfer girls, watching the scene around him devolve into a sprint of promotion, marketing and sales.