I saw Cats at The Winter Garden when i was little and have a distinct memory (ha) of Rum Tum Tugger grabbing some lady’s fur coat, running up and down the aisle, and throwing it back at her after she agreed to give him a kiss. Still loved the soundtrack, but I could have done without that little nightmare.

There were a few years in the mid 2000's when I scored three American Girl dolls (plus books and clothes) at various second hand sales; each were less than four dollars. While I was pleased as punch over this (because there was no way I would have been able to get a full price doll for my girls), I did wonder if this…

A long time ago I was in Seattle’s Pike Place and attached myself to a tour group that was learning about smoked salmon. This guy suddenly ran up to us waving a whiteboard stating that we “may be filmed” in a matter of minutes. That is how my elbow appeared in Top Chef.

Interesting that it’s the Hallmark Cards CEO that reversed the decision and made the statement instead of a rep from Hallmark Channel who placed the ban in the first place. Maybe this is the parent company speaking out (quietly) against the growing conservative bent the channel has been demonstrating?

He came off a little better in the book, but not by much  

I did on this thread. :)

Perotta leads the reader to think that most of the main characters will have sort-of happy endings and then ruins it for most of them in the last chapter. The worst (SPOILER FOR ANYONE WHO MAY CARE) is that at the start of the book Eve gets some anonymous obscene texts that say “you’re my milf” etc, but nothing is…

I couldn’t watch it. I tried. I love Kathryn Hahn, (and Carrie Brownstein and Casey Wilson etc.) but the ending of the book is so bleak that it shut out any of the positives  

Ameigh is an ob-gyn? I have so many unwanted visions now of her committing a terrible disservices to so many women. And the hat.

It’s definitely worth your time and, although I like this review, what they fail to note is that the show itself can be bizarrely funny, Not in a ‘ha ha’ way, but in a terrifying situation that suddenly becomes so absurd that you can’t help but laugh.

The mini peppermint meringues pack a lovely zing; crispy candy bits of cloud that look like they should be decorating a fancy gingerbread house. And you can (not that have to) eat eleven of these cute little things with only 80 calories to show for them.

I read somewhere that Laura Ingalls wrote Farmer Boy (inasmuch as she wrote anything) with an eye towards wish fulfillment: since her childhood was often marked with times of near starvation, the idea of writing about a prosperous farm in the east, with plenty of food, appealed to her.

Good lord. It sounds like it could be mince meat almost?

I tried that too! At least that time I was an adult and used to food betrayal,

I’d want a number of supportive people surrounding me as I roasted the tail, assuring me that I had made the right choice and it was going to be awesome.

I second Laura Ingalls Wilder’s Farmer Boy—the act of rising at five am almost sounded reasonable if you got pie for breakfast.

It’s also known as Clifton with the Killer Bunnyman--a point that Clifton itself is pretty proud of.

It wasn’t until I had kids that I realized why, at least in urban legend, the husband sleeps with the nanny and the wife sleeps with the handyman. The easy proximity alone would be attractive.

I think it’s Trummers. Clifton has that extremely wealthy small town feel, and also seems like it’s on the edge of nowhere. 

Because I am horrible, I looked into his most recent reviews. If it’s the right picture, it makes sense--the restaurant’s location is perfect for illicit assignations.