I had bad back injuries; two bulging discs and a broken fragment off a disc, all in my sciatic nerve.
Our pandering politicians compete to add names to the dependency of entitlement rolls instead of evaluating the success of these programs by how many people leave the dole and are restored to an independence. And these bulging entitlements are saddling our offspring with unsustainable generational debt.
I've got a 20 inch neck, a narrow waist and big bulging thighs so stuff off the rack doesn't fit. It's a nightmare to shop for shirts and trousers that are going to fit, because they'll be tight in one place and all baggy everywhere else.
My inbox is now bulging with touching emails from young women scientists who have been kind enough to write and thank me for inspiring them and helping them on their way. It has also been of great comfort to me to see many women at the top of science testifying for my record in supporting women scientists.
The diet is a twisted, noxious thing, all tortured abstinence and short-term fraud. I speak from bitter experience. As a restaurant critic, I eat to live and live to eat. And having a toxic aversion to exercise, there is little to prevent the inevitable bulging of my gut. Hence the need for the occasional diet.
Thomas Wake: Yer fond of me lobster aint' ye? I seen it - yer fond of me lobster! Say it! Say it. Say it!
Ephraim Winslow: I don't have to say nothin'.
Thomas Wake: Damn ye! Let Neptune strike ye dead Winslow! HAAARK!
Thomas Wake: Hark Triton, hark! Bellow, bid our father the Sea King rise from the depths full
foul in his fury! Black waves teeming with salt foam to smother this young mouth with pungent slime, to choke ye, engorging your organs til' ye turn blue and bloated with bilge and brine and can scream no more - only when he, crowned in cockle shells with slitherin' tentacle tail and steaming beard take up his fell be-finned arm, his coral-tine trident screeches banshee-like in the tempest and
plunges right through yer gullet, bursting ye - a bulging bladder no more, but a blasted bloody film now and nothing for the harpies and the souls of dead sailors to peck and claw and feed upon only to be lapped up and swallowed by the infinite waters of the Dread Emperor himself - forgotten to any man, to any time, forgotten to any god or devil, forgotten even to the sea, for any stuff for part
of Winslow, even any scantling of your soul is Winslow no more, but is now itself the sea!
Ephraim Winslow: Alright, have it your way. I like your cookin'.