Siegfried and Roy, two nuts from Germany, are out of their wealthy little minds. They live in a mansion whose ceiling is painted like the Sistine Chapel, with either Siegfried or Roy (who can remember?) in place of Adam. Roy has a meditation chamber (the rest of us have dressing rooms) furnished with a mystic rug and cages for his tigers. They wow the crowd with heavy machinery and endangered-species eugenics. I love S&R. They march to the beat of a different drum machine.

Rotisseries are essentially self-basting because most of the juices stay on the meat and distribute across it while the rotisserie is being turned.

Such bifarious anythingarians, that always make their interest the standard of their religion.

my engreeued mind could find no rest, / Till that the truth thereof I did outwrest […]