Comrade! Sit down and join us! Crack open a bottle of Jubal!

A reduced fat podcast. Best if used by November 2028.* *Refrigerate after opening.

Fresh. Frozen. Local. National. New York. Chicago. Fargo. Mmmmmmm. Pizza!

Electronics? Check. Inflatable pillow? Check. Peanuts. Check. Headphones. Check. Welcome to Lileks Air Flight 39 to Heathrow...

Contemplating Rome and finding the bunny at the bottom of the bowl. Um-m. All Gone!

Memories flood the brain like the mighty Sheyenne River pouring over its banks. Grab your shovel, son, there's work to be done.

Life is a highway. A double-yellow lined, curving, narrow highway of mechanized death. But on the bright side, that's where you'll find the Diner.

The summer wanes and we're out of our gourds.

A podcast of infinite choice and possibilities... given enough time.

Hold this episode up to your face. Now point at it and smile. You, too, can be a pitchman.

I think that I shall never see a podcast lovely as a tree... uh, oh.

A stiff drink, a hot band and a lanyard around your neck. It doesn't get any better than that. Or does it?

White Bread, Peanut Butter, Honey and T-Rex. 

Contemplating the marvels and the possible malevolence of the modern age while consuming a slightly warmed-over "Weird Burger."

Old dogs, renamed streets... and what the heck is a quoit?!? 

Playlists, algorithms, musical tastes and you never know who's listening... On the juke box: End of Every Song by Buck Dharma (Triceratops Music - ASCAP) Used by permission. endofeverysong.com

Events of the day leads to thoughts of events of the past - with a little Lidocaine thrown in for good measure.

James is back from the British Isles and has had a little bit of it shipped home directly to The Diner. 

James is heading off on his annual sojourn but takes emough time to stop in and sit at his familar place at the long, boomarang-patterned Formica counter and talk a little Fourth of July and things that go BOOOOM in the night.

Getting lubricated while going off menu. It's as much fun as it sounds.

Refrigerator's acting up. Will take my regional soda with ice. Hold the metal shavings.

Brown sugar. Butter. Maybe some cream. Perhaps a dash of vanilla and a pinch of salt. That's the recipe for Butterscotch. Or you just follow the directions on that 10-lb bag of powder over there.

You write and you write and you write some more. And you keep writing until you're done.

An episode that asks the eternal questions: Is this good? Better? Worse? Better here? Or better here? What's the lowest line you can read?