Place. Limits. Liberty.
You’ve heard of pig-in-a-blanket? This is pig-in-a-pig-blanket.
An animal with four stomachs is on its way to mine.
The underpopulated farm and the crowded casino remain for me the enduring emblems of hope and despair, respectively.
Soon you’ll all be cool as cucumbers–and soon enough as cold as the grave.
There is more work to do. And we could do it.
Ask your raving beauty whether she wants her buns toasted.
People who cook the flavor out of beef should just eat old shoes.
But oh how I loved the days of the Big O.
Sneak another mint julep during the replay. Oh lord that’s good!
Won’t someone please think of the children?
The place for dismemberment is called a university.
What did Grandma really eat?
Ladies, get your eggs ready!
Millions were waiting for “Breakfast with the Bar Jester, Part 2″ Their wait continues.
Whoso governs the belly can hope to govern the other appetites. This is not a new teaching. It is basic asceticism.
Does food have a context of time and place?, or, How to make your own sausage.
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