Chopped Liver Quotes

I am so glad Todd and I eloped," she said sincerely. "There was no way to salvage the wreckage. But I think that you deserved this, and I'm very happy for you." She leaned forward and kissed my cheek. Then she whispered, "He is really, really a hottie. How did you mange that?"
"Brat," I told her, and gave her a hug. "Todd's not exactly chopped liver."
She smiled smugly and took another sip. "No he's not."
"He could be," said Ben from behind me, his British accent giving him a civilized air that he didn't deserve. "Do you want him to be chopped liver, darling?"
I turned, making sure I was between Ben and Nan, "My sisters are off-limits," I reminded him.
A flash of hurt came and went on his face. With Ben, it was even odds whether the emotion was genuine or not -but my instincts told me they had been. So I continued in a mock-chiding tone, "Ruthie is too young for you, and Nan is married to a very nice man. So be good."
Nan had caught the flash of hurt, too, I thought. She was softer than our mother, more like her father in temperament as well as looks. She couldn't stand to have anyone hurting and not do anything about it.
She sighed dramatically. "All the pretty men, and I'm tied to just one."
Ben smiled at her. "Anytime you want to change that…"
I poked him in the side-he could have slipped out of the way, but he didn't bother.
"Okay," he said, backing away with exaggerated fear. "Ill be good, I promise. Just don't hurt me ~ Patricia Briggs

Hey, Tretch. Just writing to say I hope
your date went well and to point out
that Mom and Dad did not leave
notes for me while I was out.
Therefore, you are the favorite.
I'm off to sleep off my feelings of
inadequacy. Hopefully.
Yours truly, Chopped Liver ~ Will Walton

Don't start an argument with somebody who has a microphone when you don't. They'll make you look like chopped liver. ~ Harlan Ellison

What a strange expression said the herbalist who would compare themselves to chopped liver in the first place? If you have to to choose an organ why not pick a gallbladder or a thymus gland instead? Much more interesting than a liver. Or what about chopped t- ~ Christopher Paolini

What can I do for you, Detective?' he said cheerily, smiling and nodding at Bailey.
What was I, chopped liver? I had a badge too. Maybe I should've shown it to him. Maybe I should've shown him my gun too. ~ Marcia Clark

Gribenes have been referred to as Jewish popcorn or kosher pork rinds. It's basically chicken skin fried in schmaltz. They're crispy and mixed with fried onions. I'm telling you, when you have it with chopped liver, it's the most incredible thing because you get this crunch and this surge of chicken flavor. ~ David Sax

I don't care if you call it AO for Adults Only, or Chopped Liver or Father Goose. Your movie will still have the stigma of being in a category that's going to be inhabited by the very worst of pictures. ~ Jack Valenti

What am I? Chopped liver? Is there some specific reason he never pulls me over close to him as we drive around the countryside? Why doesn't he hook his right arm affectionately around my neck and claim me as the woman of his pickup? I never knew I had such a yearning to ride next to a man in a pickup, but apparently it had been a suppressed lifelong dream I knew nothing about. Suddenly, sitting in that pickup with Marlboro Man, I'd apparently never wanted anything so badly in my life.
I couldn't keep quiet about it any longer. "So…," I began. Was it just a high school thing? Or worse, I imagined, is it just that I'm not and never will be a country girl? Is it that country girls have some wild sense of abandon that I wasn't born with? A reckless side, a fun, adventurous side that makes them worthy of riding next to boys in pickups? Am I untouchable? Am I too prim? Too proper? I'm not! I'm really not! I'm fun and adventurous. Reckless, too! I have a pair of jeans: Anne Kleins! And I want to be Middle Seat Worthy. Please, Marlboro Man…please. I've never wanted anything this much. "So, um…why don't you do it anymore?" I asked.
"Bucket seats," Marlboro Man answered, his hand still resting on my leg.
Made sense. I settled in and relaxed a bit. ~ Ree Drummond

The gruff gryphon's voice turned gentle. What am I, chopped liver? You beat the crap out of me this afternoon. That pretty much makes us pals in my book. ~ Thea Harrison

And yet, for all this, for all that he was unparalleled in depicting tyrants knee-deep in blood, Shakespeare was a little naive. Because his monsters had doubts, bad dreams, pangs of conscience, guilt. They saw the spirits of those they had killed rising in front of them. But in real life, under real terror, what guilty conscience? What bad dreams? That was all sentimentality, false optimism, a hope that the world would be as we wanted it to be, rather than as it was. Those who chopped the wood and made the chips fly, those who smoked Belomory behind their desks at the Big House, those who signed the orders and made the telephone calls, closing a dossier and with it a life: how few of them had bad dreams, or ever saw the spirits of the dead rising to reproach them." (p 94) ~ Julian Barnes

ROASTED BEET AND QUINOA SALAD When beets are bad, they are really fucking gross. But roasted, these mother fuckers get sweet and delicious. Trust. MAKES ENOUGH FOR 4 AS A SIDE DRESSING 1 shallot or small onion, diced (about 2 tablespoons) 1 teaspoon Dijon mustard 3 tablespoons white wine, balsamic, or champagne vinegar ¼ cup olive oil SALAD 3 medium beets, peeled and chopped into small chunks (about 1½ cups) 1 teaspoon of whatever vinegar you used for the dressing 2 teaspoons olive oil Salt and ground pepper 2 cups water 1 cup quinoa, rinsed 1 cup kale, stems removed, sliced into thin strips ~ Thug Kitchen

If you ask all the cells
in my body,
they only answer your name.
Follicles push the hair upwards
so they may brush
against your skin.
Nails grow faster as well.
Lungs breathe rapidly
in hopes of inhaling your scent.
Toes curl to smile and
knees form dimples when you are near.
Brain fireworks.
Stomach fills with flies of butter
and swallows, and
swans swoon.
Cattle, rhinos, and walruses too -
there's a stampede when you are near.
I love you from the bottom of my liver
to the tip of my lashes.
One wink from you and heart stops,
like a sneeze. Bless you.
I cannot even begin to tell you
what happens to soul,
for soul is off
flying with its mate. ~ Kamand Kojouri

Pittsburgh did not smell of mayonnaise that day. ~ Sandra Staas

Goddamn. what is this shit?
early times, called j-bone. best little old drink they is. drink that and you wont feel a thing the next mornin.
or any morning.
whoo lord, give it here. hello early, come to your old daddy.
here, pour some of it in this cup and let me cut it with coca-cola.
can't do it, bud.
why not?
we done tried it. it eats the bottom out.
watch it suttree. don't spill none on your shoes
lord honey i know they make that old splo in the bathtub but this here is made in the toilet. he was looking at the bottle, shaking it. bubbles the size of gooseshot veered greasily up through the smoky fuel it held.
the last time i drank some of that shit i like to died. i stunk from the inside out. i laid in a tub of hot water all day and climbed out and dried and you could still smell it. i had to burn my clothes.
early times, he called. make your liver quiver.
(page 26) ~ Cormac McCarthy

First, you do a piece of material that begins and ends and has a flow; it's not chopped up as in a film, where in an extreme case you might be doing the last scene of the script the first day that you go to work, and you don't know enough about the character you're playing. ~ Jean Stapleton

Adjectives are used as nouns ("greats," "notables"). Nouns are used as verbs ("to host"), or they are chopped off to form verbs ("enthuse," "emote"), or they are padded to form verbs ("beef up," "put teeth into"). This is a world where eminent people are "famed" and their associates are "staffers," where the future is always "upcoming" and someone is forever "firing off" a note. Nobody in America has sent a note or a memo or a telegram in years. Famed diplomat Condoleezza Rice, who hosts foreign notables to beef up the morale of top State Department staffers, sits down and fires off a lot of notes. Notes that are fired off are always fired in anger and from a sitting position. What the weapon is I've never found out. ~ William Zinsser

Also, if your dish looks generally fucked up, just sprinkle on some chopped fresh herbs like parsley, basil, or cilantro at the end and it will look all artisan and shit. Works every time. ~ Thug Kitchen

I drank my liver out. ~ Larry Hagman

Co-writing. Man, just the word. I always thought it would be as intimate as sex and as serious as marriage. You'd come to each other committed but with no clue what to expect. You'd both lay down your tender ugly first-draft words and sounds, full of humiliating dents and bruises, and she'd see every part of your process as you sweated and chopped and swore your way to something plausibly songlike. ~ J.C. Lillis

The quantity of the mixture of butter oil and cod liver oil required is quite small, half a teaspoonful three times a day with meals is sufficient to control wide-spread tooth decay when used with a diet that is low in sugar and starches and high in foods providing the minerals, particularly phosphorus. A teaspoonful a day divided between two or three meals is usually adequate to prevent dental caries and maintain a high immunity; it will also maintain freedom from colds and a high level of health in general ~ Anonymous

What did the last Easter Islander say as he chopped down the last tree? The Easter Islanders didnt have anthropologists. ~ Jared Diamond

In a study, scientists report that drinking beer can be good for the liver. I'm sorry, did I say 'scientists'? I meant Irish people. ~ Tina Fey

Prometheus on the rock. Do you know that story? Every day he's punished for giving mortals fire by being strapped to a rock and having his liver eaten out by an eagle. I always thought it was a poor punishment. That he'd just get used to the pain, and the eagle would have to think of some new torture. But you don't. And he does. ~ Kendare Blake

If I'm playing in the morning, I'll get some carbs early: porridge with chopped banana. If I'm playing in the afternoon, I'll start with less carbs and have some eggs and fruit for breakfast, then a light lunch about 90 minutes before I play, so I don't feel sluggish or full. ~ Rory McIlroy

Oh you, straying heart, just come! Oh you, aching liver, just come! If the path to the gate is closed, Take the way by the wall, but come! ~ Rumi

Think of life as a voyage. The truest liver of the truest life is like a voyager who, as he sails, is not indifferent to all the beauty of the sea around him. ~ Phillips Brooks

Is life worth living? It all depends on the liver. ~ William James

At thirty-nine, I learned how to change a tyre, how to shovel snow, how to stack wood. I learned how to meet a deadline without a shoulder to whine on. I became obsessed with firewood. If only there was alsways a fire in the fireplace, I knew that everything would be all right. (Prometheus must have been a women. I reverted to my ancient nature: inventing fire all day, having my liver plucked out all night.) ~ Erica Jong

Swirling furiously among the stairs and corridors of her exquisite home like a small and angry white bat Sybilla, Dowager Lady Culter, was not above spitting at her unfortunate son when he chose to sit down in his own great hall to take his boots off. 'If Madge Mumblecrust comes down those stairs once again for a morsel of fowl's liver with ginger, or pressed meats with almond-milk, I shall retire to a little wicker house in the forest and cast spells which will sink Venice into the sea for ever, and Madame Donati with it. The Church,' said Sybilla definitely, 'should excommunicate girls who do not replace lids on sticky jars and wash their hair every day with the best towels. ~ Dorothy Dunnett

From time immemorial, soups and broths have been the worldwide medium for utilizing what we call the kitchen byproducts or as the French call them, the 'dessertes de la table' (leftovers), or 'les parties interieures de la bete', such as head, tail, lights, liver, knuckles and feet. ~ Louis Pullig De Gouy

Here's the only thing I know for sure: Chopped pineapple is incredible on hot dogs. Honest to God, I love pineapple on everything- I would probably even eat it off a cadaver's hand- but toss it with a little chopped red onion and put it on a hot dog, and it's bliss. There's not a lot you can count on in this world, but pineapple? It's solid. ~ Beth Harbison

Our two taco specials get shoved up on the serving counter, crispy, cheesy goodness in brown plastic baskets lined with parchment paper, sour cream and guacamole exactly where they should be.

On the side.

There is a perfect ratio of sour cream, guac, and salsa on a shredded chicken tostada. No one can make it happen for you. Many restaurants have tried. All have failed. Only the mouth knows its own pleasure, and calibration like Taco Heaven cannot be mass produced.

It simply cannot.

Taco Heaven is a sensory explosion of flavor that defies logic. First, you have to eye the amount of spiced meat, shredded lettuce, chopped tomatoes, and tomatillos. You must consider the size and crispiness of the shells. Some people–I call them blasphemers–like soft tacos. I am sitting across from Exhibit A.

We won't talk about soft tacos. They don't make it to Taco Heaven. People who eat soft tacos live in Taco Purgatory, never fully understanding their moral failings, repeating the same mistakes again and again for all eternity.

Like Perky and dating.

Once you inventory your meat, lettuce, tomato, and shell quality, the real construction begins. Making your way to Taco Heaven is like a mechanical engineer building a bridge in your mouth. Measurements must be exact. Payloads are all about formulas and precision. One miscalculation and it all fails.

Taco Death is worse than Taco Purgatory, because the only re ~ Julia Kent

Ignorant: a state of not knowing what a pronoun is, or how to find the square root of 27.4, and merely knowing childish and useless things like which of the seventy almost identical-looking species of the purple sea snake are the deadly ones, how to treat the poisonous pith of the Sago-sago tree to make a nourishing gruel, how to foretell the weather by the movements of the tree-climbing Burglar Crab, how to navigate across a thousand miles of featureless ocean by means of a piece of string and a small clay model of your grandfather, how to get essential vitamins from the liver of the ferocious Ice Bear, and other such trivial matters. It's a strange thing that when everyone becomes educated, everyone knows about the pronoun but no one knows about the Sago-sago. ~ Terry Pratchett

Those smooth, spit-cleaned cheeks gave no indication of the dreams crowding her skull. Should she make it to adulthood, the girl would arrive with two hundred and six bones. Two and a half million sweat glands. Ninety-six thousand kilometers of blood vessels. Forty-six chromosomes. Seven meters of small intestines. Six hundred and six discrete muscles. One hundred billion cerebral neurons. Two kidneys. A liver. A heart. A hundred trillion cells that died and were replaced, again and again. But no matter how many ways she dismembered and quantified the body lying beside her, she couldn't say how many years the girl would wait before she married, if at all, or how many children she would have, if any; and between teh creation of this body and its end lay the mystery the girl would spend her life solving. ~ Anthony Marra

The public, as a whole, finds reassurance in longevity, and, after the necessary interlude of reaction, is disposed to recognize extreme old age as a sign of excellence. The long-liver has triumphed over at least one of man's initial handicaps: the brevity of life. ~ Vita Sackville-West

I'm sick of being accused of gold-digging. It just so happens I get turned on by liver spots. ~ Anna Nicole Smith

Ginger Glazed Salmon 1 salmon fillet 1 small yellow onion, chopped 2 tablespoons honey 4 tablespoons grass-fed butter 1 teaspoon minced garlic 1 teaspoon minced ginger 1 teaspoon dill Juice of 2 small limes Salt and pepper, to taste Instructions: Massage the salmon fillet with half of the butter, season it with salt, pepper, and dill. Place it on a bed of chopped onions and cook in the oven until just pink and tender in the center. In a separate sauce pan combine the honey, juice of 2 limes, minced ginger, and minced garlic together with the butter to make a warm glaze. Pour this glaze over the salmon and place back in the switched off oven for 3-5 minutes. Remove and serve with a simple green salad. ~ Malik Johnson

The few remaining men can exist out their puny days dropped out on drugs or
strutting around in drag or passively watching the high-powered female in action,
fulfilling themselves as spectators, vicarious liver*, or breeding in the cow pasture
with the toadies, or they can go off to the nearest friendly suicide center where
they will be quietly, quickly, and painlessly gassed to death.
Prior to the institution of automation, to the replacement of males by machines,
the male should be of use to the female, wait on her, cater to her slightest whim,
obey her every command, be totally subservient to her, exist in perfect obedience
to her will, as opposed to the completely warped, degenerate situation we have
now of men, not only not only not existing at all, cluttering up the world with their
ignominious presence, but being pandered to and groveled before by the mass of
females, millions of women piously worshiping the Golden Calf, the dog leading
the master on a leash, when in fact the male, short of being a drag queen, is least
miserable when his dogginess is recognized – no unrealistic emotional demands are
made of him and the completely together female is calling the shots. Rational men
want to be squashed, stepped on, crushed and crunched, treated as the curs, the
filth that they are, have their repulsiveness confirmed.
The sick, irrational men, those who attempt to defend themselves against ~ Valerie Solanas

I spent the last month building this
with the help of many of the villagers. This is our own castle."
"What?"
Gaston opened the
door to reveal the cozy inside. It was one room with a giant bed and a fireplace
with flames crackling as they nipped at newly chopped wood. "This stopped being
about sex, Adam." Gaston left the door open and walked up to him. "I think
somewhere in that cold, dark, spider-filled castle … I fell in love with you."
"You did?"
"Yes." Gaston
grinned softly. "While you mourned and then sulked, I've been building this
place. I hoped, I hope it'll be our home." Gaston turned to stare at the house
fondly. "It's not perfect or a grand castle, but … if you want it can be ours."
"I … I want." Adam
sputtered. "I want this. I want you." He wanted it all so badly that his head
swam in emotions and his body felt a surge of desire. "Gaston…" But he couldn't
have it. ~ James Cox

Be careful of relying on the opinion of others, these are the same people that like liver. ~ Nanette L. Avery

I can't die until the government finds a safe place to bury my liver ~ Phil Harris

I love to watch 'Chopped,' 'Jeopardy,' and 'Breaking Bad.' You can't pass up that one. Oh! One other show I love to watch is 'Suburgatory.' ~ Mae Whitman

Unforgiveness is the most prolific cause of disease. It will harden arteries or liver, and affect the eye-sight. In its train are endless ills. ~ Florence Scovel Shinn

As long as you are forced to be a woman first instead of a person, by default, you need to be a feminist. That's it. Men are people, women are women? Screw that. Screw that. I am sick of having words aimed to shut me up. I am sick of having to be anything other than a person first. Zounds! I enjoy being a girl, whatever that means. For me, that meant Star Wars figurines, mounds of books, skirts and flats. It meant Civil War reenacting and best girlfriends I'd give a kidney to and best guy friends I'd ruin a liver with and making messes and cleaning up some of them and still not knowing how to apply eye shadow. That's being a girl. That's being a person. It's the same damn thing. I wish Rush had just called me an idiot. I'm happy to be called an idiot! On the day when someone on the Internet calls me an idiot first and ugly second, I will set down my feminist battle flag and heave a great sigh. Then I will pick it back up and keep climbing. There are many more mountains to overcome. ~ Alexandra Petri

If it works out, it's the best thing in the world. If it doesn't work out, it's like having your heart torn out and chopped up into little pieces while you watch. It leaves a big hollow space that never really heals. ~ Laurell K. Hamilton

Your pancreas, however, because of Metabolism B, releases excess insulin to deal with the bagel's glucose rush. Once this insulin helps to refill the glycogen stores in your muscle and liver, the excess keys will open excess fat cells. In an effort to feed these fat cells, you will dip into your normal blood sugar, leaving too little glucose left in the bloodstream to keep up your energy and sense of satiation. Your blood glucose has now dipped below the normal range. And so, after eating exactly the same meal, you will end up "fatter" than your friend and with lower blood glucose than she has! ~ Diane Kress

Your mother sounds like a formidable woman," Valek said into the silence.
"You have no idea," Leif replied with a sigh.
"Well, if she's anything like Yelena, my deepest sympathies," Valek teased.
"Hey!"
Leif laughed and the tense moment dissipated.
Valek handed Leif his machete. "Do you know how to use it?"
"Of course. I chopped Yelena's bow into firewood," Leif joked. ~ Maria V. Snyder

The men came to mind as mostly idle between nights of running wild or time in the pen, cooking moon and gathering around the spout, with ears chewed, fingers chopped, arms shot away, and no apologies grunted ever. The women came to mind bigger, closer, with their lonely eyes and homely yellow teeth, mouths clamped against smiles, working in the hot fields from can to can't, hands tattered rough as dry cobs, lips cracked all winter, a white dress for marrying, a black dress for burying, and Ree nodded yup. Yup. ~ Daniel Woodrell

I saw why people died and how they died. I saw gunshot wounds and liver failure. It was a good learning experience, so I came regularly on weekends and holidays. ~ Michael Baden

Herman and I have been doing a lot of talking about the cake the past couple of days, and we think we have a good plan for the three tiers. The bottom tier will be the chocolate tier and incorporate the dacquoise component, since that will all provide a good strong structural base. We are doing an homage to the Frango mint, that classic Chicago chocolate that was originally produced at the Marshall Field's department store downtown. We're going to make a deep rich chocolate cake, which will be soaked in fresh-mint simple syrup. The dacquoise will be cocoa based with ground almonds for structure, and will be sandwiched between two layers of a bittersweet chocolate mint ganache, and the whole tier will be enrobed in a mint buttercream.
The second tier is an homage to Margie's Candies, an iconic local ice cream parlor famous for its massive sundaes, especially their banana splits. It will be one layer of vanilla cake and one of banana cake, smeared with a thin layer of caramelized pineapple jam and filled with fresh strawberry mousse. We'll cover it in chocolate ganache and then in sweet cream buttercream that will have chopped Luxardo cherries in it for the maraschino-cherry-on-top element.
The final layer will be a nod to our own neighborhood, pulling from the traditional flavors that make up classical Jewish baking. The cake will be a walnut cake with hints of cinnamon, and we will do a soaking syrup infused with a little bit of sweet sherry. A thin layer of the thi ~ Stacey Ballis

I eat some crisps while I think about my question. "Would you rather have your knob chopped off or your tongue?"

"Bloody hell, Ariel," he says. "Can't you ask one normal question?"

I shrug. "Answer it."

"Tongue," he says.

I laugh. "Really? You'd rather never speak a single word ever again, never tell your wife you love her, never tell your children that you think they're beautiful, all so you could get your end away?"

He nods. "I wouldn't get a wife or a child if I didn't have a knob."

"You'd still have balls and sperm," I say. "You could still father a child."

He shakes his head. "I'd want my knob. ~ Beckie Stevenson

When the nettle is young, the leaves make excellent greens; when it grows old it has filaments and fibers like hemp and flax. Cloth made from the nettle is as good as that made from hemp. Chopped up, the nettle is good for poultry; pounded, it is good for horned cattle. The seed of the nettle mixed with the fodder of animals gives a luster to their skin; the root, mixed with salt, produces a beautiful yellow dye. It makes, however, excellent hay, as it can be cut twice in a season. And what does the nettle need? very little soil, no care, no culture; except that the seeds fall as fast as they ripen, and it is difficult to gather them; that is all. If we would take a little pains, the nettle would be useful; we neglect it, and it becomes harmful. Then we kill it. How much men are like the nettle! My friends, remember this, that there are no weeds, and no worthless men, there are only bad farmers. ~ Victor Hugo

I don't like to leave what I'm going to eat in other people's hands, so I'll pack my own lunch. I chop up a salad with lots of greens - everything from spinach, baby spinach, arugula, cucumber, avocado, radish, cauliflower, and green olives to parsley and cilantro, all chopped really fine - with a piece of wild salmon. I even bring my own tea in a Thermos. ~ Miranda Kerr

And we saved your life, y'know," Andrew said, jerking his head in Oliver's direction. "I mean, the least you could do is thank us."
"Of course!" Oliver said hastily. "Thank you very much."
"It was really dangerous back there," Patricia said earnestly, as though wanting to make sure he understood the severity of the situation.
"Yes, beheading is a serious business, I suppose," Oliver said kindly. "I think it would have been difficult to keep on living once my head was chopped off. ~ Zeinab Alayan

He decided he'd rather die as a fundamentally decent human being than live as the sort of asshole who'd tear out someone's liver to get into an escape pod. ~ John Scalzi

Om rubed his head. This wasn't god-like thinking. It seemed simpler when you were up here. It was all a game. You forgot that it wasn't a game down there. People died. Bits got chopped off. We're like eagles up here, he thought. Sometimes we show tortoise how to fly. Then we let go. ~ Terry Pratchett

Ten Best Song to Strip
1. Any hip-swiveling R&B fuckjam. This category includes The Greatest Stripping Song of All Time: "Remix to Ignition" by R. Kelly.

2. "Purple Rain" by Prince, but you have to be really theatrical about it. Arch your back like Prince himself is daubing body glitter on your abdomen. Most effective in nearly empty, pathos-ridden juice bars.

3. "Honky Tonk Woman" by the Rolling Stones. Insta-attitude. Makes even the clumsiest troglodyte strut like Anita Pallenberg. (However, the Troggs will make you look like even more of a troglodyte, so avoid if possible.)

4. "Pour Some Sugar on Me" by Def Leppard. The Lep's shouted choruses and relentless programmed drums prove ideal for chicks who can really stomp. (Coincidence: I once saw a stripper who, like Rick Allen, had only one arm.)

5. "Amber" by 311. This fluid stoner anthem is a favorite of midnight tokers at strip joints everywhere. Mellow enough that even the most shitfaced dancer can make it through the song and back to her Graffix bong without breaking a sweat. Pass the Fritos Scoops, dude.

6. "Miserable" by Lit, but mostly because Pamela Anderson is in the video, and she's like Jesus for strippers (blonde, plastic, capable of parlaying a broken nail into a domestic battery charge, damaged liver). Alos, you can't go wrong stripping to a song that opens with the line "You make me come."

7. "Back Door Man" by The Doors. Almost too eas ~ Diablo Cody

Open the throat, relax the stomach, pray for the liver. Mind over matter, I don't have a mind so it don't matter. ~ Shoenice