Philadelphia Little Free Library is filled with yarn instead of books.

There are over 90,000 Little Free Libraries around the world, but one of the first dedicated to yarn popped up outside Philadelphia.

According to news site Billy Penn, local proprietor Liz Sytsma fills up her Little Free Fiber Library with a bevy of yarn, and each day it's cleared out. Don't let BIG STRING learn about this.

Sytsma owns the Wild Hand yarn shop and uses the Little Free Library box her dad created as a sort of outreach to the community. It's caught a fan base on Instagram and Twitter as a result.

Never seen this take on the @LtlFreeLibrary movement before—a Little Free *Fiber* Library outside Wild Hand yarn shop in Mt Airy, Philadelphia. There are knitting books and balls of yarn inside. #AmKnitting pic.twitter.com/XEHHSTkMrT

— Claire (@vcmcguire) February 16, 2020

It's been a huge success in the one month since it started. "I was surprised," Sytsma tells Billy Penn. "Yarn shops all over the country reached out. Also people from all over wanting to put yarn in it."

Aww, wait until Hobby Lobby or Michael's gets a whiff of this and starts a crackdown.

Math was found in a child's library book!

It's so great to see children learning in various STEM areas!

(((re-reads news headline)))

OHHHH, sorry! Meth was found in a child's library book. Meth. Like, the drug. Not math. Small mistake, but I digress.

According to The Tribune-Democrat Newspaper, a 4-year old dropped off a book to the Shanksville-Stonycreek school library (about 80 miles outside of Pittsburgh, PA) packed with a small surprise of meth.

Being a rural town where the biggest crime is burnt cookies and an overcooked noodle casserole, the local police turned over the case to the Pennsylvania State Police, where the investigation is ongoing.

The Friday Poem: AAA Vacation Guide, by Ernest Hilbert

As another week concludes, we end with a random poem. Famous poets, obscure poets, amateur poets, whatever poets--just a poem to cap off the week.

Like this one:


AAA Vacation Guide, by Ernest Hilbert

“Philadelphia isn’t as bad as Philadelphians say it is.”
—Billboard on Interstate 95

Paris in the Spring, Autumn in New York,
Singers pair a city with a season
As though it belonged to it all year long.
They should try to put a few more to work:
Trenton in winter needs a good reason;
Scranton in summer seems so very wrong.
How about Cincinnati in the spring?
Autumn in Passaic, or in Oakland?
Some cities just lack glamour and appeal,
And there is no point arguing the thing.
No one reads through stacks of brochures to spend
A honeymoon in Allentown. Let’s get real.
Most places on the map, you must believe,
No one wants to visit, only to leave.

The Friday Poem: Preliminary Sketches: Philadelphia, by Elizabeth Alexander

As another week concludes, we end with a random poem. Famous poets, obscure poets, amateur poets, whatever poets--just a poem to cap off the week.

Like this one:


Preliminary Sketches: Philadelphia, by Elizabeth Alexander

"I saw a friend from growing up who's been 
living in L.A. for about twenty years, and I 
heard him say, ‘I'm from L.A.,' and I said, 
‘No, man, you from Philly. We don't give 
nobody up.'" 
—Khan Jamal 
jazz vibraphonist

Fish-man comes with trout and fresh crabs:
"Live! They live crabs! They live crabs!"
Bars called "Watutsi." "Pony-Tail."

A dark green suit, a banded hat.
The gentleman buys pig's feet and
papaya juice. He looks like church.

Another man, down Spruce Street, says,
"Yeah, California's beautiful,
but I ain't got no people there,

so I came back. I raised a racehorse.
Trainer says he's mean, but I say
naw, naw. That horse just alive."

Which way to walk down these tree streets
and find home cooking, boundless love?
Double-dutching on front porches,

men in sleeveless undershirts.
I'm listening for the Philly sound—
Brother brother brotherly love.

Philly.com might want to rethink that headline...

The Philadelphia Phillies baseball team is having a good year, with their pitching staff striking out seemingly everyone they face. Lest you don't know, "K" is the baseball scoring symbol for a strikeout.

This led Philly.com to post a story about their home team's strikeout dominance with the following headline, which this Twitter user caught:

Uhhh, hey @phillydotcom, you may want to reconsider this headline. pic.twitter.com/Fe59SV5dfq

— Tim Lemke (@TimLemkeTweets) May 1, 2016

Smooth.

Once alerted to their snafu, Philly.com swapped out the headline for the following, which has no double-meaning. No, none whatsoever. Not for a team that had a player just suspended for banned substances:

Sigh. Let's try this a third time...

23-year old Russian pretends to be high school honors student.

Artur Samarin came to America four years ago and, for reasons unknown, decided to pretend to be a Pennsylvania high school student by the name of Asher Potts, which he did successfully. Very successfully. According to CBS News:


[Samarin was] a member of the National Honor Society. Samarin was actively involved at the school, working with a student advisory group on a food bank, and he was a member of the school's ROTC and Naval Sea Cadet programs.


Samarin was arrested and charged with, among other things, identity theft, even though he didn't steal anyone's identity. He simply created one.

The real crime here is he decided to go with Asher as a name. That's only acceptable if you want to sing bad pop music or be a reality TV star--not if you want to be a stellar high school student.

And then there were two: Ohio finally appoints a state poet laureate.

From the better late than never file:

Amit Majmudar has been named Ohio's first-ever state poet laureate. This leaves only two states to never have established the position in their respective histories--New Mexico and Massachusetts. (Although New Jersey and Pennsylvania abolished the position in their states during the Great Poetry Purge of 2003*. But at least they once had the position.)

No one really expects much out of New Mexico, save for some lovely vistas and turquoise jewelry. Massachusetts though? Roughly 765,000 colleges and universities crammed together, never mind countless famous writers, and not a single poet laureate to be found?

Sounds like someone's just being a contrarian.



*For reasons unknown, both states became irked by the notion of a state poet laureate in 2003. Because who needs culture, really?

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Mallo Cup

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Mallo Cup

What it's made of:  Chocolate covering a sort of wannabe marshmallow whipped creme.

Who owns it:  Boyer Brothers, Inc.

Background:  The Boyer Brothers were two siblings out of central Pennsylvania, Bill and Bob, who were looking to make ends meet around the Great Depression, so, naturally, they started a candy company.

Spongebob Squarepants after a chocolate bender.

The business started with fudge and chocolate-fruit-nut clusters. In the 1940s, they introduced the Mallo Cup, which became their bestseller. That sounds impressive until you realize that Boyer Brothers only makes four types of candy (somewhere Hershey's laughs), and no one really likes chocolate-fruit-nut clusters if they're being honest with themselves.

Mallo Cup actually has a rewards program, called Mallo Money. In all packages are various faux denominations of "cash" that can be saved up to redeem for things like rebates, Mallo coffee mugs, Mallow hats, and for that debonair man of fashion, the Mallo watch, which features the Mallo Cup mascot, Marty Mallo.

What it tastes like:  The illegitimate lovechild of a jar of Fluff and a chocolate bar.

Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  A-

Admit it, you kind of want to give Marty Mallo a high five or hug.

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: Good & Plenty

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  Good & Plenty

What it's made of:  Mainly sugar, corn syrup, wheat flower, molasses--with a little anise oil, licorice extract, resinous glaze, carnauba wax, natural and artificial flavors.

Who owns it:  The Hershey Company

Background:  Good & Plenty claims to be the oldest branded candy still in production in America, having originated in 1893. The Quaker City Confectionery Company in Philadelphia, PA, created it during an era in candy creation where anise-flavored licorice products were all the rage. In the 1950s, an advertising jingle involving a mascot named Choo-Choo-Charlie swept the nation, with a song that burrowed itself into children's heads worse than the head lice in their hair.



The candy gets most of its coloring from a dye called K-Carmine. In case you don't know, that dye is created largely by using the crushed bodies of the female cochineal insect. Mm-mm-mmm. That's not any insect--that's a tasty candy insect!

As it is, only the elderly like anything anise flavored, so check the gift shop at your local assisted living facility for a huge stockpile of Good & Plenty.

What it tastes like:  Like nasty black licorice dressed up for a night on the town.

Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  D

Lies, Choo-Choo-Charlie! You're full of filthy lies!

Know Your Obscure Halloween Candy: York Peppermint Pattie

With Halloween coming soon, that means only one thing really: candy.

Anyone who trick-or-treated as a child knows that there's always one or two houses that dish out some obscure candy. So, between now and October 31st, we'll take quick looks at obscure candies (and some popular ones as well), just so you know what exactly you're getting yourself into.


Today:  York Peppermint Pattie

What it's made of:  Generally the interior is made of sugar, corn syrup, oil of peppermint, and egg whites, while the exterior is a dark chocolate concoction.

Concoction? It includes PGPR, an ingredient that replaces some of the cocoa butter content. The FDA claims PGPR is "safe for humans as long as you restrict your intake to 7.5 milligrams per kilogram of body weight. Otherwise you’d be open to reversible liver enlargement at higher intakes." Sounds delicious!

Who owns it:  The Hershey Company

Background:  Named after York, England, right? Kinda. Sorta. Not quite. But kinda.

'Mint Cakes' were popular in England during the 19th century (soft squares of mint confection, without the chocolate usually), and carried over to the United States.

In 1940, Henry C. Kessler created the first pattie at his York Cone Company business located in York, Pennsylvania. The city of York is named after its namesake in England--so, in a roundabout way, it's like you're eating English candy! Royal candy? Sure! Tally-ho!

Plenty of mint and chocolate-based candies were already on the marketplace before the creation of the York Peppermint Pattie--but Kessler had one major change to his confection. Whereas the competition's product was soft and gooey, Kessler figured out how to make his York Peppermint Pattie firm.

And that's all that was needed to woo the buying public. Think of it as a precursor to "melts in your mouth, not in your hand."

What it tastes like:  Fresh breath and a swollen liver.

Halloween Trick-or-Treat Grade:  B

All the allure of snacking out of the Queen mum's candy dish.

Ohio apparently has never had a state poet laureate.

Poet laureate is the kind of position every politician loves to support. It's right up there with naming an official state doughnut or declaring corn muffins the official state muffin. (Massachusetts is actually behind the corn muffin stance.) It makes the politician look like a lover of the arts, a lover of literacy, a lover of old-timey values, and they get to look like they're committed to a cause. In this case, committed to the cause of poetry.

Which brings us to Ohio. The state senate unanimously passed a resolution to create the position of state poet laureate, a position that 44 other states have long gotten around to naming. For a state that produced such famed poets as Langston Hughes, Nikki Giovanni, and Paul Lawrence Dunbar, it appears an oversight made right.

Under the resolution passed, the governor will select someone to the position from a list of recommendations. Once chosen, the poet laureate will remain in office for four years and be required to hold four public readings. (It's a very intense work load.)

In case you're wondering, the five remaining states without a poet laureate are not some podunk like North Dakota or Nebraska. They are Massachusetts, Michigan, New Mexico, New Jersey, and Pennsylvania--the last two of whom which once had poet laureates, and then later abolished the position.

Which is why we can safely announce New Jersey and Pennsylvania hate poetry.