Word: laps
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...minutes you are: Passed out at my computer with drool on my face and Sun Chips and juice all over my lap and eggshells spread out around the common room...
...very) young dad with not one, but TWO, (very) young toddlers, the three of whom were occupying not only 24D and F, but most of E as well. As I squeezed myself between them, navigating a backpack, stuffed Elmo toys, and even a two-year-old climbing over my lap to get his ninja sword, I resigned myself to my fate. Forget dreams of that hot romance instigated in JetBlue row 24. Hell, forget even catching up on some of that forgotten homework. My only option: sleep and pretend this wasn’t happening...
...WORK" THE DINING ROOM, BUT CELEBRITIES STILL LOVE YOUR RESTAURANTS. WHY? I tend to treat celebrities with the disdain and contempt they deserve. They lap it up, too, because they always return for more. It's the nobodies of this world I look...
...author only partly rises to the challenge, depending rather too heavily on his grandfather's writings and offering little that is factually new. The extra insights that you would expect from a family member are not there. There is a wonderful photograph of Gandhi cuddling young Rajmohan on his lap, but barely any family lore-puzzling, given how much access Rajmohan must have had to his grandfather's siblings, nieces and nephews. Little is said about the author's father, Devdas (a favored youngest son and activist), or his maternal grandfather, the brilliant Chakravarthi Rajagopalachari, second governor-general of independent...
...Tarantino does offer an explicit poetic reference: one of the girls is supposed to give a lap dance to the first guy who comes up to her and quotes lines from Robert Frost's "Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening." (The QT version of that poem might end: "The road is kewl for this white trash / But I've a Challenger to smash /And miles to go before I crash...") But there's not much poetry, I mean of the pulp variety, in Death Proof. It doesn't show me much innovation, or much fidelity to the old grindhouse...