Word: decentes
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...along with a presumptuous dotted line marked gratuity. Everyone claims the secret to London dining is to go ethnic, but our local Indian has a mysterious ?2 "papadum surcharge," and by its own admission the food is not very good. The quote on the back of the menu blares "'Decent Indian Food' - Beverly Bernstein." After eating there Ms. Bernstein couldn't even afford a colorful adjective. The insane prices bother me, but I'm completely mystified by Londoners' lack of indignation. In New York City, the cab drivers recently won a fare hike, bringing their rates to within...
...only 73? Ray Charles, who died today after years of liver ailments, had a decent run by early rock ?n roll-star standards. He didn?t kill himself with drugs or junk food or (of course) reckless driving. But though he was in his mid-20s when he broke out of the race-music ghetto into the rock mainstream, Charles always seemed older. He came to fame grown-up. The hillbilly contingent of proto-rock - Elvis and Carl Perkins and Gene Vincent and Buddy Holly, all long gone - seemed like slick teenagers busting with musical testosterone. They sang with green...
...performance-enhancing drugs, and neither has been formally charged. Still, as the allegations spread all the way up Olympus to the U.S.'s top track-and-field stars, it looks as if either we'll be sending a scandal-tainted team to the Games or those of you with decent running shoes can score a free ticket to Athens...
...house and vineyards in the south of France. Max heads there at once, where he is quickly distracted by a local female attorney with long delectable legs and by the "jaunty bosom" of the hostess at the village bistro. Soon he's thinking to try his hand at making decent wine, or at least something better than the vile purple fluid his uncle was content to produce. But then a cute young American shows up who has her own plausible claim to the property. And wait, what's going on with Roussel, the local who tends Max's vineyards...
...just moved, moved, moved, and we never seemed to get away from activity by the Germans. It was one fire fight after another. Getting up into the afternoon, pretty late, we went back inland a couple of hundred yards. We picked out a pair of good and decent spots, and we were going to take a break. I remember lying down and lighting a cigarette, and that's all I recall until I felt something nudging me and a real soft voice, kind of a questioning voice, was saying, "De lait, de lait, de lait...