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In half an hour, I’ll have a three-hour essay exam that will be the sole determining factor for my grade in a three-credit class. Thankfully, I had the foresight to pack a sandwich of baked Virginia ham on a delectable seven-grain sourdough. So even if I can’t remember whether Congress is permitted to effectively conscript state executive officers into enforcing its laws (it isn’t), at least I won’t be lacking for nutrition.
At the Outer Banks, as in life, sometimes you’re ocean-side and sometimes you’re sound-side — and either way, everyone likes a nice sandwich for lunch. In this case, everyone (meaning me) had marble rye piled high with teriyaki-flavored chicken that I took a chance on and that ended up being quite tasty.
When you’re on a ferry between Tallinn and Helsinki, you’re really the definition of a captive audience. Want some duty-free perfume, toys, or candy? You’re in luck (as long as you enjoy smelling licorice, playing with licorice, and eating licorice, respectively*). Want anything else, though, and you better hope the on-board businesses have you covered. […]
A burger is a sandwich. And an open-faced sandwich is a sandwich. So it stands to reason that an open-faced burger is a sandwich, too. Especially if the burger includes thick-sliced, fatty bacon; pickled onions; black bread; and a venison patty. Also, when I say “fatty” bacon, I suspect you may not fully understand just […]