The lure of cinnamon is a strange allure, built on scent and texture but not flavor.
In my mind, the American League will always be superior to the National League, in spite of and not because of, the designated hitter rule.
November is my favorite month though it does indeed spawn monsters (at a much higher rate than does October, I’ll note).
Although film seems to be losing its steam as an effective artistic medium, television continues its 21st century upsurge. The last two nights of TV may be the greatest since that Wednesday/Thursday I recall in January of ’83. I’m still in awe of Monday’s Arrested Development. You see, he was an analyst and a therapist. And they had a fun sexy time.
In the northern/eastern states, November does feature dead and falling leaves but they grow back.
Cinnamon works well in tandem with just a little sugar. In the early nineties, there was a noted murder case in Orange County. A teenage girl named Cinnamon killed her father (I think), but in a semi-justifiable way. I wonder what happened to her.
In the same way that I picked up English as a three-year old by reading the sports section, I’m learning Spanish by overhearing conversations in elevators about the Angelitos losing to the Yanquis.