Word: asphalting
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...most remarkable statement was made concerning "The Shoulder Trade" . . . "Amateur decorators . . . laid 50% (500 million sq. ft.) of all the asphalt tile, enough to cover the entire state of Oregon...
Bacteria can even live on paraffin, asphalt and natural gas, says Dr. Beerstecher. Sometimes the ground above an oil pool is greasy with a substance that oil prospectors call "paraffin dirt." This is mostly the fat-rich bodies of bacteria that prospered for years on trickles of natural gas seeping up through the soil. Dr. Beerstecher believes that bacteria can be trained like truffle hounds to find oil under the ground. His proposal: expose gas-eating bacteria to air taken from below the soil; if they grow, it will prove that the air contains gas and that chances are good...
Outside the Chicago Maternity Center, in the sweltering slums just south of the Loop, sidewalk vendors hawk their wares: secondhand suits, used razor blades, bottles of Dr. Pryor's Jinx Removing Bath Crystals. After dark, dope pushers, prostitutes and gangs of toughs prowl the soiled asphalt. Yet, unlike cops and truant officers, center staffers are seldom molested in the neighborhood. Even the hoods greet them on their rounds...
...enough electricity to light a city the size of Jacksonville, Fla. for a year. Amateur decorators slapped on 75% (400 million gals.) of all the paint used in the U.S., pasted up 60% (150 million rolls) of all the wallpaper, laid 50% (500 million sq. ft.) of all the asphalt tile, enough to cover the entire state of Oregon. And while the menfolk labored mightily, 35 million U.S. women made their own clothes (using 750 million yds. of cloth), gave themselves 32 million home permanents, leafed through millions of copies of do-it-yourself magazines and books, looking for still...
Hunched on the eastern shoulder of Manhattan, the grimy crest of Coogan's Bluff glowers across the Harlem River toward The Bronx. All day, traffic snarls past its littered slopes. Torn newspapers rustle in the limp breeze that swirls along the dirty asphalt of Eighth Avenue; street urchins scuffle in the dust and cadge quarters under the rusty shade of the elevated tracks...