Word: stomachly
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...time to finalize the process. Open the bag and scoop out the unrecognizable, mold-laced remnants of the dinner rolls. Then using an old sock or T-shirt strain the contents of the bag as you pour them into a new container. You are now in possession of a stomach-churning, 2 to 14 percent alcohol mixture. Serve on the rocks and fend off the urge to vomit. Enjoy, if you can. [WARNING: If you actually try this, you’ll get what you deserve. Sources: Modern Drunkard Magazine, The Rogue Voice prison magazine, and Wikipedia?...
...Victor and Cressaty have opened a branch in Kabul's sandbag-ringed NATO compound. This is so that troops - who aren't allowed around town without a humvee escort - can get a decent meal with relative ease. To quote the restaurateurs' compatriot, Napoleon Bonaparte, "an army marches on its stomach." Dishes like L'Atmo's almond trout, duck breast with peaches or grilled king prawns flambéed with whiskey should see them quite a distance...
...Shinzo Abe Thank you for your depressing report on the departure of Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe [Sept. 24]. I appreciate his honesty, but regret his lack of political stomach. I hope the next Japanese leader will effectively stand tall on the international stage as well as over the chaotic domestic arena, riddled with so many problems. It's our sincere, but desperate, wish. Masaaki Otani Kagawa, Japan...
...member High, was allowed to don the suit on the condition that she limit her vocabulary to one word. “General Mills didn’t really allow me to speak—I just went ‘Woohoo!’ when people poked my stomach,” she said. Never mind that the idea of a 6-foot-tall Doughboy with a mind of its own is vaguely alarming. “Some people said I was creepy,” said Lin. “Especially when I started walking—people...
...couldn’t read more than 30 pages of a book before I got bored or frustrated or distracted by another rerun of “America’s Next Top Model.” After all of that brain java, I needed something to settle my stomach (so to speak), and when I pulled my mother’s 1975 paperback edition of “The Portrait of a Lady” off the shelf, I knew I had found it. The language was pleasantly buffered, and as crunchy and satisfying as a piece of toast...