Word: larded
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Baseball has now paid its last respects to the past that has made it so great. Day games at Wrigley have now joined the Ghosts of Baseball Past. Ghosts that call each other "Babe" and "Dizzy," carry bats the size of Redwood trees, smother balls in Vaseline, spit and lard, pitch both games of a doubleheader (what's that?) and take the subway for a World Series game against cross-town rivals...
This is a lot more difficult that it sounds. Momma as played by Anne Ramsey gives new meaning to the word overbearing. She orders Owen around mercilessly, calling him a "clumsy poop" and a "lard-ass". Ramsey's performance is so eccentric and so funny that it is almost shocking. She seems to have arrived from another planet, one inhabited by creatures that are not exactly human...
...from potatoes grown in this state." In Pennsylvania Dutch country, said to be the capital of potato-chip production, Michael Rice, president of Utz Quality Foods, uses cottonseed oil to fry his delicately satisfying line of smooth and ridged chips. But three years ago he introduced a fried-in-lard adaptation of the original potato chip developed by his grandparents in 1921. "Grandma Utz's chips do well in Pennsylvania," Rice reports, "but not in Baltimore or Washington...
...From what we saw of his clash with the Kiwis," said Iain Murray, 28, the Kookaburra helmsman, "Conner had no great speed advantage. He won because he was always in the right spot." Another well-fed skipper -- "Lard" to his mates -- Murray cuts a Dennis figure in several ways. As New York had shunned Conner, Murray was passed over by Perth Millionaire Alan Bond, the Cup's Australian guardian. Sailing for Business Rival Kevin Parry, Murray whacked Bond's Australia IV 5-0. "He even looks a little like me," says Conner. "He lost at the America's Cup last...
...Mohonk Mountain House no more; we're in something called the Hotel Kuckkuckuhr, in Switzerland, and it's 1938. Then Westlake shows us this black-and-white flick that's more black than white, which is to say I'm talking poor quality, of some dumpity guy, a real lard bucket, being bothered at the dinner table. The guy's name is Kurt Krauss and he's a critic and a producer that everybody hates. We watch about a dozen enemies stop at his table, old Kurt getting madder by the minute, and at the end he tumps over into...