"It's chlorophyll," he declared, pointing

"It's chlorophyll," he declared, pointing at a glass of greenish liquid on the table, "The fountain of youth!" I eyed him suspiciously. "So you're a plant vampire then," I replied.

"True, they come alive, but they are stronger than ever before." He paused, caressing the leaf of a ficus. "They...love me for it. I give them life and in return, their sweet

paprika is handed over easily. Hungarians, man, they have the best paprika. I put it on deviled eggs as a decoration mostly, but when making spice rubs, look out. Paprika

really provides a zing to a back rub. My masseur Tony always added different things to his emollients. Just a couple of years ago, Tony really was into

broken clamshells and manowar venom with poison ivy oil. His surf and turf special wasn't tasty but it did

clean you right out. Luckily I was within running distance to the toilet. I spent the rest of the night painting the bathroom walls from both ends. But that wasn't the worst part.

My fiance for all of 10 minutes and her extended family heard the whole thing over the intercom that I had just installed. It was malfunctioning and couldn't be turned off. I found

some comfort in the fact that my marriage lasted 5 minutes longer than uncle Harvy who'd been caught fornicating live on TV in the background of a news broadcast with

an inflatable sheep. After his arrest he claimed it was just a protest about the wool industry, but the psychologists said otherwise. I never wore that sweater he knitted again.