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							  Crap-ass Valentines
							  Lifespan CEO George Vecchione's compensation is tops in the region
							  Recent elections, as you may have heard, have been about change.
							  The Massachusetts-bred street artist Shepard Fairey returned to his home-turf this month to "bomb" the Phoenix offices, conduct interviews, and unveil his latest work at the ICA.
							  You know what I haven't done in a while, for plenty of very good reasons? Listened to the whole cotton-pickin'  Billboard  Hot Country chart! Yee-haw!
							  Jason Voorhees's bloody hands have developed green thumbs.
							  Boston's Irepress weren't supposed to be an instrumental band. What they've evolved into just happens to be too stylishly sinuous to lend itself to lots of words.
							  Craving steak but counting your pennies? If so, churrascarias (Brazilian grilled-meat restaurants) offer some of the best deals around.
							  I travel to Manhattan a lot, and since 9/11 have found Amtrak's Acela service out of Back Bay Station a far more pleasant and hassle-free way to get there than flying.
							  In lieu of action, character development, or plot,  The International  offers architecture.
 
				
					
					
							
							  Lifespan CEO George Vecchione's compensation is tops in the region
							  Incredible, but true: until this past Friday, America was on a fast track to outlaw grandmothers selling children's sweaters for charity.
							  Recent elections, as you may have heard, have been about change.
							  Imagine if you scouted Boston's pre-eminent hip-hop artists — from the grimiest coke-slinging corner cats to the roughest coke-sniffing bar rats — and teamed them up with virtually every underground MC who's made noise in the past three years.
							  A few months back, one of my best friends from high school slept with the guy to whom, years earlier, she had lost her virginity.
							  Whatever your race — and whatever you think of his résumé, or his politics, or his yen for tax-cheating cabinet nominees — Barack Obama's arrival in the Oval Office is something to celebrate.
							  It's what's on the outside that counts.
							  The New England Press Association (NEPA) annual newspaper contest has always been good to us.
							  I put on the obligatory hard hat and walk through the doors of what used to be Avalon on Lansdowne Street, across from Fenway Park. To the layman — me — it's all dust, noise, metal, and mess.
							  Their name sort of gives them away.
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