Victor and I are having a huge argument about whether or not to feed the foxen. Victor says yes, because they're adorable and— according to the neighbors—are quite tame. I say no, because we have a fat little pug who likes to frolic outside occasionally and I don't want to see him eaten. I thought we were on the same page about the fox, but then Victor went and threw an apple at it. And I was all, “What the fuck? We don't feed the foxen,” and he said, “I was throwing the apple at it to chase it away,” but Victor is a tremendous liar, and he didn't go to pick up the apple, probably because he knows that foxen love apple cider.

“Well,” Riker resumed, turning back to Rocky, “you listen up, fuckass. You speak when I tell you to. And that goes for the rest of you.”

… it will be recalled that in 1960 they were billed as the long-distance express multiple-units of the future, ….

So, even in its agricultural aspects, it was more than a dairyland. And it was more than a food-and-beverage state. It was a leader in the science of nutrition.