As I was sitting in the car the other day, I looked to my right and saw a billboard depicting a pair of giant legs. Glancing up, I noticed, for what must be the umpteenth time, the face of Brad Pitt emerging somewhat incongorously from a Greek helmet. There was a gaggle of girls standing
Dear Mary Q. In recent weeks I have been the recipient of an unusually large postbag of personal letters. In order to open these with speed and efficiency, and without inflicting repetitive strain injury on thumb and forefinger, I have been forced to employ a paper-knife. The sad upshot of this has been that many
