Bone marrow is one of those things that I never thought I would groove on and it is an absolute delicacy. If your wife gives me bone marrow I ain't leaving and I damn sure ain't jumping over no fence.
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I had cow marrow in France — tastes like butter. They just spread it on bread there.
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I picked my own lower bar, so, I wouldn't exactly say I'm LeBron. My Tony Delk for 50 moment is the time I wrote one play and directed another, no acting. But, opening night, an actress who was in both shows called at 5pm to say she was at the hospital with her father and she wouldn't be able to go on that night. In a "show must go on" moment, I had someone else drive me to the theater, learned the lines on the way over in the car, and went on for her. Dad turned out to be OK and she was able to finish the run, whew. (To be fair, since I had written one of the plays, it made learning the lines a little easier. Still, for a couple of the lines, I was like, why did I write it this way?)
I’m really tickled over the idea of a pack of Jack Russell’s laying waste to the Shire.
FWIW, I've never broken a leg. Or any other bone.
I guess the secret to clean windows is get someone else to do them?