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Lucy and Ethel
“I felt like I was playing Ethel to my mother’s Lucy again last night,” my daughter Barbara announced to the assembled group. We had just returned from a week of family camping. “The girls” (my two daughters and my niece Kelly) had slept over, and my sisters Joan and Bev had joined us for breakfast when Barb began recounting the tale of our middle of the night mishap.
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The Last Waft (1987)
That Cat Food Smell: I wonder why it is that you can dab perfume liberally over the various pulse points on your body and be unable to detect even a trace of the scent within a few minutes, but accidentally get one drop of cat food juice on your fingers