Word: eating
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There is so much you can't know about your spouse when you get married, like that one day she will want to eat her placenta. But there are two things you don't argue about with a pregnant woman: what she eats and that being full of life indeed looks sexy. So when Cassandra told me that for $275, a woman would come to our house, cook Cassandra's placenta, freeze-dry it and turn it into capsules to help ward off postpartum depression and increase milk supply, I said, "$275 is a bargain compared with...
Most mammals, Cassandra explained, eat their placentas, to which I countered that most dogs eat their poop. I stopped arguing there, figuring that like many of Cassandra's hippie ideas - the compost bin, rubbing lemon on her underarms instead of deodorant - she'd give up on this in a few weeks. Even as the due date approached and she was still set on eating her placenta, I couldn't imagine that she'd remember to request it from the doctor after the most physically draining experience of her life. This is a woman who, 9 times out of 10, forgets...
...like Wal-Mart dominate the retail landscape, peddling middling goods at rock-bottom prices. Higher-end stores put their merchandise on sale like clockwork; if you wait a little longer, you can get it even cheaper at a factory outlet. Afterward, you can fill up on all-you-can-eat shrimp at Red Lobster for $15 - truly, the American Dream...
Though I do not eat much beef, I love Kate Pickert's article about cow-pooling [June 15]. I grew up on a farm in Arkansas where my sister and I stood on the fence and waved goodbye as the cows were loaded onto the truck to be taken to market, and where my dad once made me and my friends get up at 6 a.m. after a sleepover and dig potatoes. My kids have been growing up in the suburbs, not knowing where food comes from. Now we are growing vegetables in the backyard, and they are helping debone...
...them have a robust manliness in David's voice. Rancor is the medicine that keeps Boris alive. It makes him the ideal foil for Melody's cheerful resilience (which Wood winningly captures) and gives him a tart appeal, even when he's condemning the universe as "this cruel, dog-eat-dog, pointless black chaos" and his own film audience as "Neanderthals"--or when he observes that "while a black man got into the White House, he still can't get a cab in New York." Like Molière, Allen and David know there are few spectacles droller than a misanthrope...