Jokes old stale now.
(Yes, spices can go stale.)
Bread is bread until it goes stale.
This wasn't a stale corporate office tower."
“It’s the opposite of growing stale,” he said.
Bench warrant for a case so stale he’d forgotten about it.
Bread can do two things when past its prime: go stale or go mouldy.
(Since you’re toasting it, it’s not necessary for the bread to be stale, but it certainly can be.)
He played in a stale, mundane scheme surrounded by a bunch of stale, mundane players.
But the action sequences are lifeless; the lessons valid but arguably stale; and the trimmings, mere bloat.
The fridge isn’t appropriate because of the moisture in the air, and coffee may taste stale if it has been frozen.
A chance encounter proves life changing when Cayden Hunter comes crashing into the somewhat stale lives of Meg and Richard.
For one thing, oats don’t stale as quickly as cereal does, which is likely to go off before I’ve had the chance to finish the box.
Ben Rhodes, the deputy national-security adviser for strategic communications, told me that Washington was “trapped in very stale narratives.”
ABC and the Television Academy are hoping that the makeshift quality of the broadcast provided a ratings boost to a show that had grown stale in recent years.
Bread was stale, while a rib-eye steak was well below the standards of the city’s top meat merchants, lacking colour on the outside and beefy juiciness on the inside.
Writing in Tech Insider, Julia Calderone consulted a wholesale manager at Café Grumpy who told her that the process involves stale grounds, inadequately hot water, and rushed brewing time.
This document defines a method (serve-stale) for recursive resolvers to use stale DNS data to avoid outages when authoritative nameservers cannot be reached to refresh expired data.
Meanwhile, London printing wasn’t going to plan and, according to Geoffrey Taylor’s history of the Guardian, a lack of funding and attention for the editorial side of things meant that ‘the paper was stale.
Even from that distance I caught the stench of sweat, today’s sweat, still fresh, but under that the stale sweat of other days and other nights, receding into the far distance, the darkness, all the way back to the first year of this interminable war.