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 bouyant 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 shrivelled 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.

This product gave me diarrhea. My brother got cholera, my mom got the measles and my sister broke her arm. Soon after, we lost a wagon wheel and a thief stole 3 oxen.

THIS STUFF IS GREAT!! I use it on everything! I rub it on my TV screen, I wash my sheets in it, I clean my daughter with it, I sniff it, I throw it at my cats, I use it to channel the devil. I can't say enough... I just wish my daughter didn't smell like sour apples after her daily applications. Good with the bad I guess. Time for my Tuscan rub down... later.

Back when my family immigrated into this country, times were tough. People were out of work, families, torn apart with the fear of the unknown looming over their heads. The one constant...milk.

The sweet, delicious, run-down-your-chin white froth never disappointed. It never made poor investment decisions. In fact, it invested in us, the American people.
Whether you were from here, whether you came by boat, by train, or by burro, milk's stomach filling reassurance gave you hope for the future.

Well, here we are now. The economy in shambles, our grip on the world, slipping. Can you save us, milk? Can you help us return to glory?

We pray to thee, bovine nectar, the everflowing juice. Save us.

I have tried many things to become more successful. I have tried Peter Popoff's Miracle Water, I've read Chris Angles "Levitating Clears the Sole" and David Blaine's "Hang Yourself From A Skyscraper for 1 Year to Get Rich".

All of these were SCAMS!

Last night, I had a dream that one day I would no longer get Rick Roll'd and I would have 2.7 million dollars. After I received my Tuscan Milk (NOTE: I ordered 2%) I drank half one day and half the next.

Little did I know, at that very moment, my Grandmother died. I inherited all her fortunes worth 2.7 Million Dollars and her death was caused by a Rick Roll (she had a heart attack after hearing the music) so YouTube took down the videos.

So now, not only do I have 2.7 million dollars, and not only is Rick Rolling over, but I can finally jump on the "Hey, lets go sue YouTube" bandwagon.

Only in America (and Tuscan) can something like this happen.

I bought the Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz with high hopes. "Finally!" I thought. "128 fl oz of milk, without leaving the comfort of my own home."

Surely, then, you can understand just how devastated I was when the UPS driver showed up, package in hand, only to find out after careful measuring with precise laboratory equipment that there were only 127.60 fluid ounces of milk in this jug.

That's missing 0.40 ounces of milk, for you liberal arts majors.

Amazon: if you could kindly refund the $0.0124 to my Amazon Store Card account, I may very well increase this review's star rating. Until then, Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz only gets two stars.

And it only gets that extra one because it tastes so damn good with Frosted Flakes.

found Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 Gallon, 128 fl oz. online and wondered if I might like it. I've been having an issue where I've been forced to supplement my weekly food shopping trip, but only to buy additional whole milk. (at this point I was using Joanna Farms Whole Milk , 1 quart, 32 oz.) I was finding that one quart,32 oz. was too little for my consumption, however I have friends who had suffered issues with spoilage using even the half gallon 64 oz. jug. Would I be able to use 128 oz.? On returning from one of my mid-week restockings, I came across Tuscan Whole Milk 1 gallon here on amazon and, possessed by my frustration, ordered with the expedited shipping. The next morning I awoke to chime of the delivery man, asking me to sign off on the chilled box containing my Whole Milk 1 Gallon.

I'd advise anyone who had similar concerns to me to make that leap of faith, and size up to the 128 oz. container. With only minor adjustments to my diet (bring Tuscan Whole Milk in my canteen at work(1 pint 16 oz.), eat 2 bowls of cereal in the morning, and try to use more dinner recipes containing milk), I've been able to seize on the economy of scale granted by the 1 gallon size to the tune of :

hours saved weekly from not making extra milk run : .05
dollars saved from bulk discount: .70

yearly savings:
hours : 2.6
dollars: 36.4

I'm approaching 45 , so assuming advances in medical technology raise average male life expectancy to 90 by the time I reach old age, that's 45 more years of savings ahead of me:

hours:117
non-inflation adjusted dollars:1892.8

117 hours totals just under 5 days. At this rate, calculate what could happen if you upgrade to Tuscan Whole Milk 2 Gallons, 256 oz.???or even 3 Gallons, 384 oz.??? I leave it to your imagination to postulate further. Is the internet and amazon guiding us towards a utopian 'Back to the Future' situation where Whole Milk offers us a pathway to unlimited time and wealth on this planet?

Assuming the gallon saves me 3 minutes , from when I used to make my supplementary milk run, I would need only to buy Tuscan Whole Milk, 480 gallons 61440 oz. to buy back my ENTIRE WEEK.

All this is of course unproven, but I can be sure that on those last 5 days TACKED ON to my life thanks to Tuscan Whole Milk , 1 Gallon, 128 oz. I can take those savings and go on a last hurrah to the Tuscan farm country itself and shake the hands of each man and woman involved in the production of this of this wisely sized product. Thank you Tuscan Farms and Amazon.

Once upon a mid-day sunny, while I savored Nuts 'N Honey,
With my Tuscan Whole Milk, 1 gal, 128 fl. oz., I swore
As I went on with my lapping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at the icebox door.
'Bad condensor, that,' I muttered, 'vibrating the icebox door -
Only this, and nothing more.'

Not to sound like a complainer, but, in an inept half-gainer,
I provoked my bowl to tip and spill its contents on the floor.
Stupefied, I came to muddle over that increasing puddle,
Burgeoning deluge of that which I at present do adore -
Snowy Tuscan wholesomeness exclusively produced offshore -
Purg'ed here for evermore.

And the pool so white and silky, filled me with a sense of milky
Ardor of the type fantastic of a loss not known before,
So that now, to still the throbbing of my heart, while gently sobbing,
I retreated, heading straightway for the tempting icebox door -
Heedless of that pitter-patter tapping at the icebox door -
I resolved to have some more.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
'This,' said I, 'requires an extra dram of milk, my favorite pour.'
To the icebox I aspired, motivated to admire
How its avocado pigment complemented my decor.
Then I grasped its woodgrain handle - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams of Tuscans I had known before
But the light inside was broken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only words there spoken were my whispered words, 'No more!'
Coke and beer, some ketchup I set eyes on, and an apple core -
Merely this and nothing more.

Back toward the table turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
'Surely,' said I, 'surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'

From the window came a stirring, then, with an incessant purring,
Inside stepped a kitten; mannerlessly did she me ignore.
Not the least obeisance made she; not a minute stopped or stayed she;
But, with mien of lord or lady, withdrew to my dining floor -
Pounced upon the pool of Tuscan spreading o'er my dining floor -
Licked, and lapped, and supped some more.

Then this tiny cat beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grand enthusiasm of the countenance she wore,
Toward the mess she showed no pity, 'til I said, 'Well, hello, kitty!'
Sought she me with pretty eyes that seemed to open some rapport.
So I pleaded, 'Tell me, tell me what it is that you implore!'
Quoth the kitten, 'Get some more.'

1,611 of 1,697 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars Finally, a tank you can trust, December 1, 2005
By Thomas Dunham "Los Pepes" (Catonsville, Maryland United States) - See all my reviews
(REAL NAME)
I'll admit it. Shopping for a personal tank can be a bit daunting. Many times in the past I've purchased overpriced, so-called "battle tanks", then driven them into battle only to be wrecked in ten minutes by the first blow off of some insurgents home-made morter.

But not this baby, no way.

This tank R-O-C-K-S! Literally- the 400-watt sound-system keeps me rockin like a crazy man as I'm dishing out justice commando style. Wow. I just can't say enough. And the kids love it, too- imagine the look of terror in the eyes of the enemy as I'm dropping off my kid's team to their soccer game. Shock and awe, my friends, SHOCK AND AWE!

I had NAO install the optional GPS-guided white phosphorus missile system, and talk about *SWEET*! Burn baby burn!!!

Oh, it also has plenty of room for groceries, and if you need to like move a loveseat or something it'll fit if you use a little bungee cord.

The only real negative with this tank is that it shows up on radar a little more than I like (although there is a polyresin graphite stealth model available). Also, the included spare isn't full size.

Overall, a great tank.