"Shawn Ryan recalls the hungry years, before his first big strike. The prospector and his family were living in a metal shack on the outskirts of Dawson, the Klondike boomtown that had declined to a ghostly remnant of its glory days. They had less than $300 and no running water or electricity. One night, as wind sneaked through gaps in the cladding, Ryan’s wife, Cathy Wood, worried aloud that their two children might even freeze to death. Today the couple could buy—and heat—just about any house on Earth." —National Geographic reports that if you make like 1896, you can [...]
Plants: our friends? Our enemies? Uncaring monsters who are only interested in screwing everything in sight? Oh wow definitely the latter. Wave Hill (a "public" garden, which means "only eight bucks!") is the pervertedest, sexiest, pollen-iest place in New York City (249th St., hello!). Up there, overlooking the Hudson, you can watch the foreign flora, from near and from really far, basically get on top of the other flora and hump it until it bleeds sap. All over. Actually very sexy and fun to be around!