Get to know your tetrominoes

I - The Intermittent Hero: Arrives just in time to save the day - when it damn well pleases.

T - The Problem Solver: Cleverly fits into all sorts of odd spaces without ever complaining.

O - The Chunky Thumper: Aka the Stupid One, it unthinkingly clunks down onto the most convenient spot.

L - The Industrious Ant: Makes Tetris miracles happen by unflinchingly providing a solid foundation on which the other pieces can build.

J - The Indolent Grasshopper: A crude and backward imitation of the previous piece, lacking
the L's dedication and selflessness.

S and Z - The Niche King and Queen, respectively: Usually only helpful after a string of themselves make the game board a terrible mess of a mountain range into which no other piece can snugly fit, these two filler pieces serve very little practical purpose.

Astronauts Work in Space

Thank you, CNN, for helping me fulfill a lifelong dream of catching an unintentionally funny headline.

Food for Thought or: "How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Generic Post Title/Clichéd Strangelove Parody"

When I was freeloading (growing up), I used to (unintentionally) irritate my mom to no end by eating all the ingredients of a sandwich piece by piece, without ever actually assembling them into a sandwich.

I think about that every time I grab some salami and cheese out of the fridge and fold it in half, or when I drink straight out of a carton or jug.

Those culinary traditions may have been born with me, but new ones emerge all the time. As a kid, for example, I thought licking peanut butter off a stick of celery instead of eating the whole thing was immature and wasteful. Now, it just sounds like a good idea ... or it would if I hadn't just eaten two handfuls of semi-sweet chocolate chips.