The nation's oldest Death Row inmate probably won't ever be executed. But he sure loves to write letters.
South Florida's lawless exotic rental car industry keeps rolling.
In Texas, restitution for victims is nothing but a state-sanctioned sham.
If you thought Seattle couldn't fetishize coffee any more, you haven't been to a "cupping" yet.
Most St. Louis bands circa 1990 wallowed in the awful hairdos and worse songs of the hair-metal and thrash-funk dark ages. But one band sliced through the haze with a razor-sharp mod-punk sound and slogan-splattered suits to match: The Nukes. The band was like nobody else in town at the time, something known by those Jam and Clash fans who bobbed along with anthems like "Last Ten Years" and "Popular" and affectionately flicked cigarette butts at wired frontman Packy Reynolds. A move to the Bay Area did not prove to be the route to global superstardom, and the Nukes fizzled out. But this Saturday's reunion will find the Duck Room packed with onetime scenesters looking to party like it's 1989, back when the Nukes partied like it was 1979.