Watch this video about how ant colonies work. Here's a hint: They're just like us, maaan.
Winter's almost over. Thank god. Here's a cool guide to planting bulbs for the next three seasons. Get some friggin' color up in here.
We're the only animal that has a chin. Which makes me scratch mine. Which makes me wonder if that's why it's there. It makes me dizzy.
Better clean up your act! A dirty house can get you a one-way ticket to the slammer like these two ABQ dirtbags.
Help the internet write a novel one character at a time. It can't be worse than Fight Club.
More than half of British adults went to church in the last year, proving once again that there's nothing to do in England.
Spain is offering citizenship to descendants of Jewish families who fled the country in the 15th century. We knew they'd come crawling back.
Hey, litterbugs! Quit leaving your dead bodies around and use this mushroom burial suit next time. It turns corpses into compost in no time, and it comes in a slim-fitting onesie.
Easy access to paint programs has unleashed a torrent of what-if 8-bit imaginary retro video game awesomeness where time-slipped console development meets films from the past, present and future. Personally, I’d like to see a Super Nintendo THX-1138—which would certainly be less ridiculous than the SNES Home Alone cartridge—but I guess I’ll have to do that one up myself. What I did find out was that there were these clever mock-ups, one of which is actually real. Which one?
New Mexico courts get a case management tune-up.
There's a push to change New Mexico's capital outlay funding system to a merit based model.
The change of venue motion in the Boyd case has been denied.
UNM researchers released a report saying that business are afraid to come to New Mexico because they perceive the government as being corrupt.
Albuquerque based Research & Polling found that the majority of residents support legalizing recreational use of marijuana for adults over 21.
Eddie sure as hell didn't want spend the rest of his life in Burque, but it sure seemed like it would go that way as he loaded another pizza into the Pontiac. And the moon shone down on the elms and cottonwoods, the cicadas buzzed and nineteen-hundred and ninety-six was not a bad year.
He came back to town like a lightning storm from the Caribbean that January. A man with a scar across his belly and hands like starfish held a knife across Eddie's throat in Tobago because Eddie told the dude his haircut made him look new wave. The way it was tied up on his head like an abandoned coral reef made Eddie think it was just a convenient disguise; the kind the po-po used when they wanted you to be comfortable because they needed more information before they stepped in with machetes drawn and handcuffs at the ready.
He got to walk away from that incident on two accounts, the first being his fluency with slang and the second having to do with the civil war presidents that hung out in his left front pocket.
After that he wandered through town cursing his luck and studying the night sky. The next morning he left Crown Point with acid burning a glorious hole in his gut. The 10 seat Cessna that bore Eddie away made for the coast of the southern continent.
The Isle of Margarita was better, some of the streets were lined with orange trees, but even the good hotels had plumbing hanging out of the walls. Eddie hired a car and headed for the coast. The cabbie tuned in to a station that was playing "Stairway to Heaven" over and over. The sea was grey and despicable. At dinner an old European couple hit him up for a threesome. Eddie feigned shock and wandered back to his cabana alone.
Two days on and he was stranded in the student ghetto again, reading want ads in the Daily Lobo, smoking rolled up frajos made from butts found by the front door of the Frontier Restaurant.
Eddie finally scored a job as a substitute teacher. Shorn and shaved, wearing his old man's cast off business attire, it was easy enough to think he might be a teacher.
The year was burning by kinda like a rocket to the moon might look like from the proper vantage point. In May Eddie took a full time gig at the school.
He liked all the responsibility; the pizza in the cafeteria kept his spirit calm. But at night his head was still filled up with the mountains and seas and people that made up a faraway earth he reckoned he ought to conquer while youth permitted.
When summer school ended, he walked away from the job and rang up an old flame. Lorraine was living at the edge of the Himalaya mountains and goddammit if it didn't sound fine and picturesque where she was, with fruit bats a flyin' and the monsoon petering out to reveal an infinite, mountainous majesty that beat Burque to hell by comparison.
Since he needed some feria to get out there, Eddie took a temp position at the same college he had run screaming from four years before. They were pleased as punch to see his sorry ass and let him get their internet connections sorted out. Then he was in charge of dispensing keys and also sat in the front office typing memos.
Every night he would tumble out of there and walk downtown. He'd spend everything he could come up with drinking with acquaintances and coaxing beautiful strangers back to his pad for jazz cigarettes and strong coffee.
As summer waned he ran into a gal he had known in the 1980s. She was a townie with yellow hair and hands like a clock. They ended up back at Glenda's house where she wept while telling Eddie about her life. All Eddie could think about was that woman's mother sleeping in the next room, the scent of her dead father's shoes wafting solemnly through the family home.
Eddie picked up the phone at work the next day.. It was a trunk call from Nepal. The operator asked if he wanted to be connected. The voice on the other side was dulcet, was like velvet. Come out here, the voice said and we will make it work this time.
Eddie was all torn up. He liked the yellow-haired woman, even though she said he dressed like a punk and should trade in his patronage at Pacific Coast Sunwear for the comfort and cultural cachet of Macy's. And he had a history with Lorraine, could not resist her Oxford accent—especially given the hot dry air, the crackling insect desert, the dull clerk's identity he had gathered up into a bag called Albuquerque.
One morning after a party at Glenda's, he borrowed her car and drove over to Allsup's. Eddie bought a burrito with a Grant and poured the change—196 quarters—into the pay phone so he could tell Lorraine what exactly he had decided to do.
Eddie returned the car, took his skateboard and left. He withdrew all of his money from the bank, skated over to his favorite tavern and got good and drunk.
That night he fell alseep in a friend's back yard. When the short night had ebbed he hauled his sorry ass over to a travel Agency by the Sunport and bought a one way ticket to Kathmandu. He sure as hell hoped it would work out this time.
Six month's later when he returned for his mother's funeral—thin and worn with a head full of incense—Eddie took a job delivering pizzas. The third delivery ticket was for an address in Nob Hill; it was Glenda's house. He took her the pizza. She stood at the door, staring at the stars and weeping. As Eddie held the pie out toward Glenda her hands moved around and around in small circles exploring the space all around them.
The best things in life come from doughnut boxes.
Is a Republican debate really a debate without someone mentioning Donald Trump?
Tommy Chong feels the Bern and believes you should, too.
Kanye West wants us all to be on the same page about what he doesn’t like in the bedroom.
My millennium aesthetic heart is about to combust over this lip-sync battle.
Albuquerque's well-known author and playwright Rudolfo Anaya's play Who Killed Don Jose?
combines comedy, political intrigue and romance in a performance that will bring smiles to the whole family.
With only three remaining performances--Friday night at 7pm, and Saturday at 2pm and 7pm--time is running out on your chance to see this playful portrayal of conspiratorial blunder and New Mexican politics featured at the South Broadway Cultural Center (1025 Broadway SE).
Tickets for the all-ages show are $12 for adults and $8 for children under 18, available at southbroadwaytickets.com
For more information on events and activities at SBCC, visit cabq.gov/sbcc or call 311.
South Broadway Cultural Center's (1025 Broadway SE) Night of the Arts offers up the opportunity to see an arts-themed film, hear great live music, enjoy refreshments, and experience the opening of a new group photography exhibition, "Natural Forces - THE WILD", featuring the work of Ken Spencer, Rush Dudley, Stan Honda, Charles J. Medendorp and Vance Ley.
The February 4th Night of the Arts includes a reception for the artists scheduled from 5pm-8 pm in the South Broadway Gallery. From 5-7 pm, enjoy the sounds of MoonHat.
At 8 pm the documentary, How to Draw a Bunny: A Ray Johnson Portrait will screen in the John Lewis Theatre. The film is a collage-style feature-length documentary about the Detroit-born pop and performance artist and Warhol contemporary. Filmmakers John Walter and Andrew L. Moore delve into the mysterious life and death of Johnson, After Johnson's suicide.
For more information on events and activities at SBCC, visit cabq.gov/sbcc or call 311.
I have lived in Albuquerque almost my whole life. To be more specific, I am a product of the Northeast Heights. That's the part of town where I've lived the most, where I went through public school and where I spend the majority of my time. But now I work Downtown. Having worked down here for several months, now I feel like I get what Downtown is all about. It's not as intimidating as it once was. The narrow roads and one way streets now only semi stress me out. I like walking the streets and noticing the varied people who congregate in this area. I've grown to love watching the trucks unload the cases of booze in the morning from the view from my desk and seeing the bands unloading equipment in the alleyway on my walk to my car. Having said all that though, today I did miss my turn and was almost immediately lost. Turns out, I haven't really explored more than my natural route down here. The only thing that saved me is that Albuquerque streets are on a grid system. I think I might have some more exploring to do.