Did You Read That Review ? (28 page)

By
Don Bagley
, April 5, 2013

This delightful little imp appears to be quaffing a “yard of beer” whilst balancing on a soccer ball. Finished in cherubic silver, it should match well with any tie.

15 of 17 people found the following review helpful

A true relic for the believer

By
Edward
, April 5, 2013

Made of silver mined by the Nephite peoples circa 500 BC in present-day New York or possibly Mexico, this exquisite piece is the perfect way to prove to disbelievers what we all know to be true.

1 of 2 people found the following review helpful

Impeccably graven object

By
George
, April 6, 2013

This well-crafted image will clearly communicate the level of your religious devotion and righteousness. Don’t spend one more hour in church meetings sans this little guy. If you can’t play the trumpet in sacrament meeting, at least you can wear a replica of the ones on display at the tops of the most sacred edifices on earth.

30 of 32 people found the following review helpful

Great for vuvuzela lovers

By
coke drinking guy
, April 5, 2013

As many of you might know, we vuvuzela enthusiasts don’t get a whole lot of respect. A lot of people claim we are a bunch of d-bags who are willing to annoy everyone around us for a single moment’s worth of attention. Nothing could be further from the truth. We are regular family people who love public events and who seek to enhance public events through the cheerful noise of our vuvuzelas. I am glad there is finally a product that we can wear in order for the public to realize how much our special interest means to us.

4.0 out of 5 stars

Name:
     
Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz.

ASIN:
     B00032G1S0

Price:
     
$9.99

Whole Milk

Most Helpful Customer Reviews

6,074 of 6,245 people found the following review helpful

One Friday without the Milk

By
Catherine Swinford
, October 30, 2006

He always brought home milk on Friday. After a long, hard week full of days he would burst through the door, his fatigue hidden behind a smile. There was an icy jug of Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. in his right hand. With his left hand he would grip my waist—I was always cooking dinner—and press the cold frostiness of the jug against my arm as he kissed my cheek. I would jump, mostly to gratify him after a time, and smile lovingly at him. He was a good man, a wonderful husband who always brought the milk on Friday, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. Then there was that Friday, the terrible Friday that would ruin every Friday for the rest of my life. The door opened, but there was no buoyant greeting—no cold jug against the back of my arm. There was no Tuscan Whole Milk in his right hand, nor his left. There came no kiss. I watched as he sat down in a kitchen chair to remove his shoes. He wore no fatigue but also no smile. I didn’t speak but turned back to the beans I had been stirring. I stirred until most of their little shriveled skins floated to the surface of the cloudy water. Something was wrong, but it was vague wrongness that no amount of hard thought could give shape to.

Over dinner that night I casually inserted, “What happened to the milk?”

“Oh.” He smiled sheepishly, glancing aside. “I guess I forgot today.”

That was when I knew. He was tired of this life with me, tired of bringing home the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl. oz. He was probably shoveling funds into a secret bank account, looking at apartments in town, casting furtive glances at cashiers and secretaries and waitresses. That’s when I knew it was over.

Some time later he moved in with a cashier from the Food Mart down the street. And me? Well, I’ve gone soy.

43 of 46 people found the following review helpful

Let me tell you something

By
Susan’s Man
, August 9, 2006

Let me tell you a little something about this milk…Apparently, it’s not such a great birthday gift for “some people.” (Yes, I’m talking about you, Susan.) Just because “some people” feel like six years is a long time to be dating and really expected to get an engagement ring for their birthday, doesn’t mean it’s going to happen. I mean, where did you expect me to get a ring when I don’t even have a savings account, Susan?! What do you want from me…blood?! Obviously, you don’t want my milk, which I thoughtfully had delivered to you at work so people would see it and be jealous of you. But you didn’t appreciate that, did you? No. You said that you hated me, and that you’ve been cheating on me for a year and a half. Well, I’ve been cheating on you too, Susan…and I’ve never been happier.