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Ex Marks the Spot

When it comes to a mystery, you never know what you're gonna get. But it's usually more than you bargained for.

Georfray has been combing this part of the beach for the past eight years. Every morning, with coffee and metal detector in hand, he spends exactly two hours sweeping back and forth. He's never found anything particularly valuable, save for the wedding ring he promptly returned to the tearful owner who hugged him and thanked him exactly four times before scurrying away. Truth be told, he's not really looking for anything. He just enjoys the steady and monotonous BEEP... BEEP... BEEP... a welcome escape from the chaos of his old life.

March is Women's History Month in much of the English-speaking world. This means the patriarchy is currently keeping the eleven other months for itself but hey, baby steps. Ken Jennings, like many Jeopardy! contestants, would be the first to admit he knows nothing about women. But he'll be with us all month correcting some misconceptions about history—or is it herstory?!?—that even the most ardent Women's Studies majors might miss on the final.

The Debunker: Did the Nineteenth Amendment First Give Women the Right to Vote?

Oh, no! That thing we had sold out! So out of our desperate attempt to be rich love for giving you options, we've added a bonus sale for today. Consider it a gift to us from your wallet to all of you who were hoping for something like this. This is your chance to help us look good to our bosses get a little something for yourself, okay? Thank you You're welcome.

From the parlor of gambling to open-air rambling.

The Lonesome (But True) Ballad of Diamondback Stan

He was a mountain bike and a gambling man.
His Kenda tires rolled ‘cross the land.
Where cards were dealt he took his hand,
And the name that they called him was Diamondback Stan.

On rugged trails and in billiard saloons,
Under dim parlor lights and bright midnight moons,
Fortified with the strength of aluminum tubes,
All alone he sang such lonesome tunes.

Until one night at a poker table rough,
A dishonest host dealt cards below snuff,
And when the host’s turn came, in a manner quite gruff,
Addressing ol’ Stan he said “I call your bluff.”

Stan looked as though he’d seen a ghost.
He adjusted his alloy seat post,
said, “Gentlemen, let us raise a toast,
to our most gracious and honest host.”