Word: honey
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...business, selling bottles adorned with cherry blossoms? From death stares to drapes in three easy steps. Vultaggio and partner John Ferolito established a semisuccessful beer distributorship before trying to produce their own brands. Their first choices were a little less refined than mandarin-orange-flavored green tea sweetened with honey. They started Midnight Dragon malt liquor in the mid-1980s and, to promote it, printed thousands of posters featuring a scantily clad woman sipping Midnight Dragon through a straw and a vulgar tagline. Midnight Dragon peaked at 3 million cases annually. In the early '90s, Vultaggio's Crazy Horse malt...
...network TLC, however, is out to bust up that long and happy marriage. On each episode of Honey We're Killing the Kids! (debuts April 10), nutritionist Dr. Lisa Hark visits a family with bad eating and exercise habits. The money scene comes when Dr. Hark leads the parents into a stage that looks like a medieval catacomb and shows them, on a giant TV screen, computer projections of what their kids will look like at age 40 if they keep gorging on sugar and fried food. In the pilot, the parents watch, horrified, as their three sons morph...
...expect the young men to notice that I don?t stiffen up. But I know they would notice if I did, because I have two younger brothers, aged 19 and 25. Their honey-colored skin, a few shades lighter than mine, and Asian eyes don?t prevent random strangers from viewing them simply as Young Black Men - which they are by about half - and, therefore, potentially dangerous, which they definitely are not. And surely their non-physical traits, like being highly educated and classically trained musicians, get lost amidst the ski jackets and low-riding pants my youngest brother...
...Bill Macy: Being married to a Desperate Housewife is emasculating enough. Try it when she plays a man, as Macy's honey, best actress nominee Felicity Huffman does in Transamerica...
...Honey, would you please pass me the wine, so I can cry into it?" As the bill for a dinner at L'Arpège in Paris was served up, its recipient couldn't restrain a shocked yelp ("$900 Canadian!"). His female companion, whose menu displayed no prices, had only been able to guess how much anything cost by her partner's cringes as she ordered. I cringed, too. French haute cuisine is frequently underwritten - and then written off as mugging at Sabatier knifepoint - by hapless tourists. Since the late 18th century, when the Revolution cooked the goose of French...