Word: pretzels
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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President Bush's fainting episode, caused by a pretzel, appeared to have little medical significance. But it was a major event for at least one constituency: late-night talk-show hosts. Here, at last, was a terrorism-free gaffe they could make fun of--which they did, endlessly. The Tonight Show's Jay Leno, who joked about Bush's deciding "which game he's going to pass out watching," tells TIME the mishap was "a gem" because it didn't require "mocking his ability to govern...but was just a light human foible." Indeed, Bush got relatively gentle treatment: most...
...Sigmund Freud said that sometimes a cigar is just a cigar, but as Bill Clinton discovered, that's not the case when you're the occupant of the Oval Office. The same goes for a pretzel. Washington's official line is that wartime Prez George W. Bush was taken to the mat by a lowly pretzel while watching American football. But world reaction has been fairly skeptical. Surely President Bush, a potato chip and pork rinds sort of guy, is familiar with proper snack consumption. (Open mouth. Chew. Swallow. Repeat.) Was this a rogue pretzel acting on its own deranged...
...weird again. Pettitte could not get an out in the third inning. His replacement, Jay Witasick, could not get an out west of the Mississippi. The B-Backs hit doubles to right, scorched singles to left, and up the middle. Johnson, who looks like a licorice stick holding a pretzel rod when he?s at the plate, directed a single to right, making the score 7-0. The D- Backs now had a cadence going. Single, double, single, double. Torre had already conceded the game, leaving the miserable Witasick in to face an Arizona team that was very intent...
...Caroline enjoys a bite of pretzel and Luci has a sip of beer. Then Caroline, who is three and a half and therefore hears everything, says, "Let's go, Mommy." We are all so happy tonight that no reasonable request goes unanswered for even a minute. "Okay," says Luci, and Caroline slides off her seat. "Daddy, save my place...
...distinct sense that to ski very far with it on your back and then hold it steady enough to hit a four-inch circle at 50 meters is an activity most certainly undertaken by men - oh, and the untold platoons of Nordic Amazons who could twist me into a pretzel. Now that I can handle the thing, and make a decent show of myself as a ski-borne marksman, I realize that my gun has contributed directly to an increase my self-esteem. This makes me love it even more...