Word: tediousness
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...complimentary salad bar which fills the rear dining room is only a distraction, and a tedious one at that. Rookies take note—the restaurant’s profit-conscious owners want you to fill up on refried beans, carrot sticks and rice, so that you don’t eat your fill of meat later on. Be strong, and don’t succumb to the temptation. Many an eager young eater’s challenge has fallen by the wayside after he loads up early on tepid fried eggplant and mediocre garlic bread...
When I was a freshman, nothing bothered me more than seniors who would moan and groan about the difficulties they faced deciding what to do after graduation. (Actually, one thing was more irksome: seniors who started tedious and patronizing anecdotes with the phrase, “When I was a freshman.”) How anyone could complain about a future that included cable television and never again having to eat off dining hall trays totally baffled me. Now, of course, the future seems rather more daunting...
When I was a freshman, nothing bothered me more than seniors who would moan and groan about the difficulties they faced deciding what to do after graduation. (Actually, one thing was more irksome: seniors who started tedious and patronizing anecdotes with the phrase, “When I was a freshman.”) How anyone could complain about a future that included cable television and never again having to eat off dining hall trays totally baffled me. Now, of course, the future seems rather more daunting...
...chance to fully develop his loose cannon personality. What’s more, the absurd shout-along choruses of early Grand Buffet favorites like “Candy Bars” and “You’re on Fire” have largely been replaced with tedious sing-alongs. But even if the album doesn’t always do justice to the act, it should be more than enough to expand their audience for their next burst of deranged brilliance. They’re here, they’re weird, and they’re making basement...
...could call Jhumpa Lahiri's The Namesake (Houghton Mifflin; 291 pages) a multigenerational saga of the immigrant experience, but that makes it sound like a tedious prime-time mini-series instead of what it is: a delicate, moving first novel. It begins in Cambridge, Mass., with the birth of a son to the Gangulis, an Indian couple who recently arrived in America. New England seems a chilly dreamworld to them compared with their native Calcutta. "Ashoke and Ashima live the lives of the extremely aged," Lahiri writes, "those for whom everyone they once knew and loved is lost, those...