Is 'How To Get Away With Murder' Based On A True Story?

A late-night brainstorm gave me a whole stack of locked-room setups that still make my brain sparkle. One I keep coming back to is the locked conservatory: a glass-roofed room full of plants, a single body on the tile, and rain that muffles footsteps. The mechanics could be simple—a timed watering system that conceals a strand of wire that trips someone—or cleverer: a poison that only reacts when exposed to sunlight, so the murderer waits for the glass to mist and the light refracts differently. The clues are botanical—soil on a shoe, a rare pest, pollen that doesn’t fit the season. Another idea riffs on theatre: a crime during a private rehearsal in a locked-backstage dressing room. The victim is discovered after the understudy locks up, but the corpse has no obvious wounds. Maybe the killer used a stage prop with a hidden compartment or engineered an effect that simulates suicide. The fun is in the layers—prop masters who lie, an offstage noise cue that provides a time stamp, and an audience of suspects who all had motive. I love these because they let atmosphere do half the work; the locked space becomes a character. Drop in tactile details—the hum of a radiator, the scent of citrus cleaner—and you make readers feel cramped and curious, which is the whole point.

I get really into the lore for stuff like this, so here's the short and sweet: in 'Red Dead Redemption 2' you have to collect all 30 dinosaur bones scattered across the map and then bring them to the paleontologist stranger who wants them. Once you hand in the full set, you'll receive an in‑game cash payment and a unique collectible reward for completing the set. It’s mostly a completionist payoff rather than a gameplay power-up—more flavor and bragging rights than combat advantage. Beyond the cash and collectible, finishing the bones lights up that chunk of your completion percentage and contributes to the game’s completion list and trophy/achievement progress. I love that it sends you traipsing through weird corners of the map, too—hunting those bones turned several strolls into mini-adventures, and that moment when I found the last one felt satisfying in a very nerdy way.

Surprisingly, yes — mature anime sometimes does get official merchandise, although it behaves differently from mainstream anime merch. In my collecting years I've chased down everything from small resin figures and limited dakimakura covers to artbooks and soundtracks tied to explicit titles. The big difference is that official releases are often gated: they're sold as 18+ items, sometimes shipped in discreet packaging, and are frequently limited runs aimed squarely at a niche audience. You won't see a giant promotional plushie in a mall, but you might find a high-quality garage-kit or a monographic artbook offered directly through a publisher's store or at events. If you're hunting, expect to deal with specialty retailers, secondary-market sites, and Japanese conventions like Comiket where publishers or the original studios may sell official pieces. Also keep an eye out for official censored variants — companies sometimes issue ‘safer’ versions that can be displayed more openly. I get a real rush when I finally score an official release rather than a bootleg; it feels like discovering a secret corner of the hobby I love.

'Talk Like TED' by Carmine Gallo is a treasure trove for anyone looking to elevate their public speaking game. Gallo breaks down the magic of TED Talks, highlighting what makes them effective. He starts by emphasizing the importance of passion in your presentation; if you're not excited about your topic, why should anyone else be? Engaging stories are a crucial element too; weaving personal anecdotes into your discussions makes them relatable and memorable. Throughout the book, Gallo presents three key strategies: emotional connection, novel information, and memorable delivery. It's all about getting your audience to feel something, whether it’s joy, sadness, or inspiration. By incorporating surprising facts or a unique perspective, you can capture attention and keep it. He even dives into how body language, voice modulation, and visuals can enhance your message. It’s not just about what you say, but how you say it. The book’s vibrant examples bring these lessons to life, making it an enjoyable read for anyone wanting to present like a pro. When taking a look into the practical advice, Gallo delves into preparation tactics like rehearsing and receiving feedback. He emphasizes the idea that confidence is born from preparation. This means that, while it’s important to have a dynamic delivery, there really is no substitute for thoroughly knowing your material. I found myself nodding along, thinking about all those times I tweaked a presentation just before showing it to my peers, feeling way more at ease when I was well-prepared. So, if you’re looking to make an impact with your speaking skills, 'Talk Like TED' is definitely your go-to guide!

The fox motif hooked me the moment I first saw it plastered on a neon-stickered shop window; there was something both playful and ancient about the silhouette. The story, as I pieced it together from interviews and festival snaps, is that the original creator wanted to fuse two worlds: the intimate warmth of a 'desa'—a village with rice terraces, nightly gamelan, and communal life—with the sly, spiritual energy of a kitsune from Japanese folklore. They sketched dozens of concepts, starting from literal foxes to abstract tails that could double as rooftops or waves. Local artisans contributed batik-like fur patterns while a younger illustrator suggested the single, slightly crooked smile that now reads as mischievous but benign. They leaned on shrine iconography—masks, torii-inspired arches, lantern shapes—but kept the lines modern and emblem-friendly so it worked on tees, enamel pins, and app icons. Seeing that logo on a friend’s jacket feels like spotting a secret symbol of home and wonder; it still makes me grin when I catch it on the subway.

I get a little excited talking about this one because Lando’s hair has such a recognizable vibe — it’s the kind of cut that looks effortless but actually needs some thought behind it. From what I’ve picked up watching his Instagram stories and paddock photos, he usually gets the cut done at a proper barber or salon when he’s home (often between Bristol, where he’s from, and London or Monaco depending on the season). When he’s at races the finishing touches are often done by whoever’s on hand in the hospitality area or a team stylist; that’s why sometimes it looks slightly more polished at circuits compared to his casual at-home snaps. The style itself is a textured crop with a neat taper on the sides and a bit more length left on top to push forward or to the side. Barbers achieve that look with scissor texturizing on the crown and a soft clipper fade on the sides, finished with point-cutting to create movement. For styling he seems to favor a matte product — think light paste or a clay — applied to slightly damp hair, then finger-combed or blow-dried for natural separation rather than a slick look. If you’re trying to replicate it, ask for a medium-length textured top, soft taper, and a barber comfortable with blending scissor work into clippers. Keep it trimmed every three to five weeks to maintain the shape. Honestly, it’s one of those sporty-but-clean looks that suits him perfectly and is surprisingly easy to live with between cuts.

Can't stop smiling about the soundtrack drops from 'Ya Boy Kongming!' — the show really leaned into giving characters their own musical moments. In the releases I've tracked, the main singer of the story got the most prominent vocal material: full-length insert songs and character singles performed by her seiyuu. Those pieces show up as both stand-alone singles and as part of the official OSTs, usually timed with big live scenes where the in-universe performances are front-and-center. On the instrumental side, Kongming himself gets a handful of new motifs and cue pieces that underscore his strategizing scenes. They aren't vocal character songs, more like thematic leitmotifs that grew into memorable tracks on the soundtrack. A few supporting performers and rival acts also received dedicated tracks — sometimes short character themes, sometimes full pop/hip-hop-style insert songs — released as singles or bundled in OST volumes. My favorite moment is hearing a backing-track morph into a full vocal performance during a climactic stage scene; it made me cheer out loud.

My take? The biggest and most obvious power-up streak belongs to Tanjiro. He doesn’t just get stronger—his whole fighting identity evolves. Early on he’s a Water Breathing user trying to survive, but as the story goes he unlocks the Hinokami Kagura and, more importantly, the Sun Breathing lineage that fundamentally changes how he fights. He also gets the Demon Slayer Mark, greater stamina and resilience, and even brushes against demonic strength during the final arcs. Those upgrades let him stand toe-to-toe with Upper Moons in ways the young Tanjiro never could. But it isn’t only him. Zenitsu’s progression is wild in its own way: he moves from being a punchline who only performs while unconscious to refining his Thunder Breathing and using variations with control and intent. Inosuke grows out of pure rash aggression into a far craftier, sensory-driven fighter whose Beast Breathing matures and becomes more tactical. And then there’s Genya — his “power-up” route is weird and raw because he gains demon-based abilities by consuming demon flesh, which gives him odd, brutal strengths others don’t have. All of these male characters get dramatic boosts, but each upgrade reflects who they are, not just bigger numbers, and that’s what makes it feel earned to me.