The Editors The Editors

Good Morning, Moonshine

Historical hangover cures range from raw owl eggs and fried canary, to less detestable alternatives such as artichokes, borscht, pizza, and tomato juice

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The Editors The Editors

A Risky Pursuit

Free-soloing, that is, rock climbing straight up cliffs, without a rope, is as dangerous as scaling up the side of a skyscraper

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The Editors The Editors

Rabbit Hunting

Put aside the heavy, messy phallic instruments for a night and invest in a masturbatory sex toy that is too often overlooked: the Rabbit

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The Editors The Editors

White Magic

A photoshoot inspired by Native Americans, witchcraft, and nature reflects an ethereal world

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The Editors The Editors

Sister Act

Closer Still stayed optimistic even though The Lost Horizon appeared nearly empty. The place looked like a deserted Mexican cantina; a mere twenty people had shown up to see them play during a snow-swept January storm. But, as they say, the show must go on.

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The Editors The Editors

Blessed are the Nerds

I love nerds. And geeks. And all other individuals whose interests transcend applying toxic chemicals to their hair. Nerds pack knowledge. If you manage to coax them out of their states of paralyzing mutism, they’ll dispel little tidbits of knowledge like how Christopher Nolan only used CGI in The Dark Knight for about three effects. Hot.

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