Mg Car Quotes

I pulled the MG in beside him at the curb and he got in. "This thing ain't big enough for either one of us," he said. "When you getting something that fits?" "It goes with my preppy look," I said. "You get one of these, they let you drive around the north shore, watch polo, anything you want." I let the clutch in and turned right on Dartmouth. "How you get laid in one of these?" Hawk said. "You just don't understand preppy," I said. "I know it's not your fault. You're only a couple generations out of the jungle. I realize that. But if you're preppy you don't get laid in a car." "Where do you get laid if you preppy?" I sniffed. "One doesn't," I said. "Preppies gonna be outnumbered in a while," Hawk said.

There are only two ways to get in and out of an MG Midget sports car – the elegant way or my way. The elegant way is how you see the film stars do it on TV when they arrive at the Oscars. To get in, put your bum inside first and then swivel legs round. Similarly, to exit, swivel legs out, bum last. My way is to get everything but bum in first, leave bum out in the cold for a bit while struggling with other appendages, and then bum can come in. To get out, I simply fall on to the pavement.

sell those to his manager at Haltek. Jobs was able to get his first car, with his father’s help, when he was fifteen. It was a two-tone Nash Metropolitan that his father had fitted out with an MG engine. Jobs didn’t really like it, but he did not want to tell his father that, or miss out on the chance to have his own car. “In retrospect, a Nash Metropolitan might seem like

They talked in the car always, he trying to find the key to her own ignition behind the hooded eyes, she sitting back of the right-hand steering wheel and talking, talking, nothing but MG-words, inanimate-words he couldn’t really talk back at. Soon

Sometimes mothers blame Barbie for negative messages that they themselves convey, and that involve their own ambivalent feelings about femininity. When Mattel publicist Donna Gibbs invited me to sit in on a market research session, I realized just how often Barbie becomes a scapegoat for things mothers actually communicate. I was sitting in a dark room behind a one-way mirror with Gibbs and Alan Fine, Mattel's Brooklyn-born senior vice president for research. On the other side were four girls and an assortment of Barbie products. Three of the girls were cheery moppets who immediately lunged for the dolls; the fourth, a sullen, asocial girl, played alone with Barbie's horses. All went smoothly until Barbie decided to go for a drive with Ken, and two of the girls placed Barbie behind the wheel of her car. This enraged the third girl, who yanked Barbie out of the driver's seat and inserted Ken. "My mommy says men are supposed to drive!" she shouted.

SOFT-SCRAMBLED EGGS WITH ASPARAGUS Hands-on: 15 min. Total: 15 min. For perfect soft-scrambled eggs, cook slowly and stir often to form creamy curds (see page 176). Use the thinnest asparagus you can fnd so it will become crisp-tender with gentle heat. 18 large eggs, lightly beaten 1 ⁄ 3 cup whole milk 1 teaspoon salt 1 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper 3 tablespoons olive oil, divided 1 cup fnely chopped small asparagus 1 ⁄ 4 cup chopped fresh fat-leaf parsley 1. Combine frst 4 ingredients in a medium bowl, stirring with a whisk. 2. Heat a large nonstick skillet over medium heat. Add 2 tablespoons oil to pan; swirl to coat. Add eggs and asparagus to pan. Reduce heat to medium-low. Cook 8 minutes or until eggs are soft and begin to set, stirring frequently. Stir in parsley; drizzle with remaining 1 tablespoon oil. SErVES 12 (serving size: 1 ⁄ 3 cup) CalOriES 146; FaT 10.9g (sat 3g, mono 5.5g, poly 1.8g); prOTEiN 10g; CarB 2g FiBEr 0g; CHOl 280mg; irON 2mg; SODiUM 304mg; CalC 55mg

BLOOD ORANGE MIMOSAS Hands-on: 10 min. Total: 12 min. We love the color blood oranges give this classic brunch cocktail. A dash of bitters adds depth. Look for orange bitters—such as Fee Brothers or Stirrings— at liquor stores or specialty grocers. The sugar cube dissolves as you sip, balancing the bitters and giving of bubbles for a festive touch. Juice the oranges and keep chilled up to a day ahead. 12 sugar cubes 1 ⁄ 2 teaspoon blood orange bitters or angostura bitters 1 7 1 ⁄ 2 cups sparkling wine, chilled 3 cups fresh blood orange juice (about 6 oranges) blood orange rind curls (optional) 1. Place 1 sugar cube in each of 12 Champagne futes or slender glasses; add 1 drop bitters to each fute. Combine wine and juice. Divide wine mixture evenly among futes. Garnish with rind, if desired. SErVES 12 (serving size: about 3 ⁄ 4 cup) CalOriES 143; FaT 0g; prOTEiN 0g; CarB 11g; FiBEr 0g; CHOl 0mg; irON 0mg; SODiUM 0mg; CalC 5mg

ORANGE, HONEY, AND THYME BISCUITS Hands-on: 23 min. Total: 36 min. Bake biscuits up to a day ahead, and keep in a sealed zip-top plastic bag. 2 ⁄ 3 cup nonfat buttermilk 2 tablespoons clover honey 2 teaspoons chopped fresh thyme 2 teaspoons grated orange rind 10 ounces spelt four (about 2 cups) 5 teaspoons baking powder 1 ⁄ 4 teaspoon kosher salt 1 5 1 ⁄ 2 tablespoons chilled butter, cut into small pieces cooking spray 1. Preheat oven to 425°. 2. Combine the frst 4 ingredients in a small bowl, stirring with a whisk. 3. Weigh or lightly spoon four into dry measuring cups; level with a knife. Combine four, baking powder, and salt in a medium bowl, stirring with a whisk. Cut in butter with a pastry blender or 2 knives until mixture resembles coarse meal. Add buttermilk mixture to four mixture, stirring just until moist. Turn dough out onto a lightly foured surface; pat into a 7 1 ⁄ 2-inch square; cut into 12 rectangles. Place dough on a foil-lined baking sheet coated with cooking spray. Bake at 425° for 13 minutes or until lightly browned on edges and bottom. SErVES 12 (serving size: 1 biscuit) CalOriES 162; FaT 6.1g (sat 3.3g, mono 1.4g, poly 0.2g); prOTEiN 4g; CarB 22g; FiBEr 3g; CHOl 14mg; irON 1mg; SODiUM 330mg; CalC 61mg

He also kept a succession of wonderful and interesting cars in his garage including an M-type MG sports car and – for a while – a beautiful blue Bugatti 35, which would be worth a great deal of money today. I remember him taking me for a ride in that and turning the heads of all those we passed. Perhaps not surprisingly, to an impressionable young boy like me, Billy felt like a man to worship. As I already had my own complete set of tools, given to me over the years by Father, I was more than happy to tinker along with Billy and watch as he took an engine apart, piece by piece, stripped everything down and then put it all back together again, chatting all the while. It was Billy who surprised me by revealing

Swicord is not a New Age nut; she's a writer. And even after mega-wrangles with Mattel's management—the musical was sketched out but never produced—she is still a fan of the doll. "Barbie," she said, "is bigger than all those executives. She has lasted through many regimes. She's lasted through neglect. She's survived the feminist backlash. In countries where they don't even sell makeup or have anything like our dating rituals, they play with Barbie. Barbie embodies not a cultural view of femininity but the essence of woman." Over the course of two interviews with Swicord, her young daughters played with their Barbies. I watched one wrap her tiny fist around the doll's legs and move it forward by hopping. It looked as if she were plunging the doll into the earth—or, in any event, into the bedroom floor. And while I handle words like "empowering" with tongs, it's a good description of her daughters' Barbie play. The girls do not live in a matriarchal household. Their father, Swicord's husband, Nicholas Kazan, who wrote the screenplay for Reversal of Fortune, is very much a presence in their lives. Still, the girls play in a female-run universe, where women are queens and men are drones. The ratio of Barbies to Kens is about eight to one. Barbie works, drives, owns the house, and occasionally exploits Ken for sex. But even that is infrequent: In one scenario, Ken was so inconsequential that the girls made him a valet parking attendant. His entire role was to bring the cars around for the Barbies.

Celebrities who in the sixties had led Barbie-esque lives now forswore them. Jane Fonda no longer vamped through the galaxy as "Barbarella," she flew to Hanoi. Gloria Steinem no longer wrote "The Passionate Shopper" column for New York, she edited Ms. And although McCalVs had described Steinem as "a life-size counter-culture Barbie doll" in a 1971 profile, Barbie was the enemy. NOW's formal assault on Mattel began in August 1971, when its New York chapter issued a press release condemning ten companies for sexist advertising. Mattel's ad, which showed boys playing with educational toys and girls with dolls, seems tame when compared with those of the other transgressors. Crisco, for instance, sold its oil by depicting a woman quaking in fear because her husband hated her salad dressing. Chrysler showed a marriage-minded mom urging her daughter to conceal from the boys how much she knew about cars. And Amelia Earhart Luggage—if ever a product was misnamed—ran a print ad of a naked woman painted with stripes to match her suitcases.

When are you going to get your license?” Claire asks, half-jogging to keep up with me. “You need a car. Madeline’s sister has a car. She picks her up every day.” Madeline’s sister is none other than my bestest friend in the world, Tabitha. “Well, Madeline’s sister doesn’t have to pay for her car. So that makes it easy.” “It’s a convertible.” “How nice.” “It’s black.” “Ah, the same as her heart.