Retirement: the ultimate full-time job, complete with coffee contemplation, garden inspections, and the sacred afternoon nap. But when I try to trade screens for books, curiosity—and a certain shiny drone—intervenes, dragging me into a whirlwind of aerial shots, AI photo experiments, and artistic rabbit holes. Free time? A myth. But a wonderfully creative one. Click in to see where “purposeful screen time” can take you.
Wildfires, soaring planes, and a nostalgic dive into fountain pens: today in Carcassonne, the heat is unbearable, the skies are alive with firefighting aircraft, and I’m rediscovering the quiet joys of Seyes-ruled notebooks and cursive practice. Chaos outside, calm—and a touch of absurdity—inside. Click in to ride along through smoke, memories, and a mid-life tech adventure.
Day 37 without booze, and I’m clinging to my minty mocktail like a life raft while the sun tries to roast me alive. The scales are mocking me, the trousers still judge me, and whisky still whispers from movie screens — but I’m holding the line. Click in for heatwaves, humour, and the tragic comedy of one man’s quest to drop a few kilos without losing his mind.
Some nights aren’t just concerts — they’re time machines. Last night in Carcassonne, Robert Plant’s voice soared through the summer air, blending blues, country, and a touch of magic that made us all seventeen again. Friends flew in, memories flooded back, and for a couple of hours, the golden god reminded us the soul of rock ’n’ roll never fades. Click in for the full, star-soaked story.
Fifty years, one campus, and two T-shirts later — I’m back in Villanova gear. The fit isn’t quite what it was in 1975 (neither am I), but the nostalgia is timeless. Want to know why a simple shirt can carry half a century of memories? Click in and find out.
A sleepless European, a 12:30 AM kickoff, endless commercials, and a few dangerously good cocktails—welcome to my Super Bowl night. I rooted for Philly, ranted about ads, marveled at how little the “ball in play” actually is, and still somehow survived until morning. Curious how rugby, foie gras, and Old Fashioneds all collide in this tale? Click in and find out.
Helmets off, mouthguards in—rugby is back, and it’s everything American football wishes it could be. Forget endless commercials and replays; the Six Nations kicked off with France crushing Wales 48–0 in 80 minutes of pure, uninterrupted mayhem. Curious why this “real sport” doesn’t need timeouts, play sheets, or padding? Click in and feel the hits.
