Her boyfriend cooks weiners and beans and sandwiches and stupid stuff. We are sophisticated. We make uppity things, like spaghetti and beef stroganoff and eggs. But she will not reevaluate because she likes them young and beefy, neither of which am I. Never never will I marry, never never will I wed. What do you think of them egg rolls, Mr. Goldstone? Speaking of egg rolls, I'm watching Screaming Mimi, which features the one, the only, Miss Gypsy Rose Lee.