Last weekend I went as far into Iran as an American passport would allow me. The week before, I left burning tires in Bahrain to traipse around northern Iraq looking for kebab and Neandertal bones. But from all this searching, I have found nothing quite as miraculous as what I witnessed last night. The most important discovery of this November — nay, of this entire year — is this:
↓
↓
DID ANYONE KNOW THIS IS WHAT BRUSSELS SPROUTS GROW ON??
It’s like a billy club designed by a vegan caveman.
Amazing. Happy Thanksgiving.
INGULFED 
I would never dare go to Bahrain or Iran or Iraq or Pakistan or most of the miraculous, dangerous places you have so enchantingly reported on over the past year or more. However, timidly venturing no further than the Union Square Green Market in Manhattan, I have, in fact, beheld the wondrous Brussels Sprout clubs.