Milk which is just about to turn is akin to that moment spent on the cusp of failure in a dulled and fettered relationship.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I mean, there's no point in sittin' around and cryin' about spilt milk. Gotta move on.
My boyfriend and I live together, which means we don't have sex - ever. Now that the milk is free, we've both become lactose intolerant.
You know, you only get to live life once, so there are two things that that yields. One is that there's no point in crying over spilt milk, but secondly you hate wasting time, energy, and whatever talent you've got.
I have an obsession with Milk Duds. Eating them tastes like heaven.
All the good ideas I ever had came to me while I was milking a cow.
We're so conditioned to believe that milk does a body good and that we need enormous amounts of protein or we'll wither away. Look around, we're not withering - we're fat.
Like most North Americans, I'd been raised on the notion that milk is the first food, and everybody must like it because it's so good and so important for growing up and for being healthy.
My wife says I can't remember if she has milk in coffee.
Milkmen seem so wholesome, and there's no way anybody can be that wholesome.
If you do not milk the cow fully, it falls sick.