Wonder why the caged birds poop?

WordPress’s oversized headlines are really making my pathetic observations look even thinner, so I’m just going to line up a bunch of offenders for a small-bore firing squad. Is Borat talking about a certain mighty mutt when he refers to “cake made of smashed cow”? (Even he might hesitate to top it with bacon that managed to look both raw and burned, though.) And now that “mighty appetite” is being thrown around down in DC, too, I wonder who deserves more credit, Christopher Guest or Marianne Pearl; transferred to food, either of their titles makes you think of breaking wind. And considering the first small-screen cooking teacher was James Beard, followed by Dione Lucas, both way back in the mid-1940s, should the obit of Chef Tell really have touted him as “an early television chef”? Strange for such a vintage reporter to think the 1970s were ancient history. . . . And, really, if only Jules would resurface on a week when Panchito has the gall to complain about lazy language. Never having gotten past the jump on his own prose, I always assume it starts: “Hi, I’m a Chimp enabler, and I’ll be your Ambien today.”