That's a very big number. Like that's too big to describe the amount of anything in the universe. Like uh, helium atoms. I think that's the most numerous thing there is, I can't remember.

Touché.

Why would you want to slow down traffic?

Pepsi's a made-up word, what's its name claiming to be that it isn't?

The rusty white one was in fact an old Checker Aerobus, a practical production-model limousine made by Checker Cabs in the sixties.

You don't have to stop using words just because they aren't in the dictionary anymore.

Does it really use a neon display? 'Cause that'd be really cool. Generally the only time I honk at cyclists is when they ride in my blind spot. If you're going fast enough to match my speed then please take a second to make sure you can see me reflected in the side mirrors of my crappy station wagon, if you can't then I can't see you.

I could probably put together a decent roadster given an engine pulled out of an old Honda Civic or something. And all I know about cars I learned from wikipedia, the library, and owning a series of junkers. I can make pie crust, pizza dough, and bread from scratch, too. And I'm pretty handy repairing my clothes myself, though my stitches are crooked.

Every comment yet has been from someone who doesn't watch television, let's hear from someone who does.

I don't abstain from watching television, I just don't ever seem to turn it on. I waste time on the computer instead.

This sort of thing usually happens a few steps down the line from the person who actually wrote the article. Where do you even get nutmeg nuts anyway?

@PR New York: Actually, the condition he allegedly has only depigments in splotches. The whole deal is that he bleaches the rest of his skin to match the splotches.

Better than paying for the uniforms yourself, my family was dirt poor and I was perfectly happy wearing goodwill scraps until sixth grade when suddenly the school needed us to buy forty-dollar slacks and fifty-dollar polo shirts from one of the three Approved Manufacturers. Fortunately my mother was able to keep the three pairs of slacks we bought alive for the entire year with her sewing skillz, but the next year the dress code was revised and suddenly visible stitches and patches were no longer allowed, (it didn't help our case that my mother deliberately chose comically mis-matching patches)

Science! I hope they find out something awesome.

I still like my cool blue fluorescent tubes better. The eight-foot-long ones.