Word: beers
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...quite possibly the greatest musical interpreter of our time performs every weekend at Harry's-an ordinary bar in a Singaporean shopping mall. There, before a half-empty room, while soccer matches are screened and waitresses ferry beer and fries, Paul Ponnudorai sings with astounding virtuosity, accompanied only by his Spanish guitar. His voice swoops and growls with the range and soulfulness of mid-period Stevie Wonder, and his fluid, polyrhythmic style of guitar playing appears to have little precedent. But it is his choice of material, and the inventiveness with which he arranges it, that cloaks Ponnudorai...
...easy to spend a night in a bar with him?" asks Geldof. "No, he'd get bored. Not with you, but with that chitchat level." Even Brown's inner circle frets about the friendliness-factor issue. One loyal disciple concedes: "It's important that people want to have a beer with Gordon...
...size for a Big Gulp. We live in a Costco big-box world, and to get me to think and eat small, you have to make your smaller offerings Prius cool. Instead of cutting the prices a few bucks, these places need to include a free beer...
...article confidently predicted my progress: As a freshman I would spend time at overcrowded, sweaty, and generally tedious parties or nursing a beer in my dorm, furtively listening for the local proctor. As a sophomore I would get punched, probably unsuccessfully, by a club or two, friends would join fraternities, sororities, or some other club. And as an upperclassman, I would begin to visit local bars and, increasingly, frequent the final clubs...
...them. We were just super brand-new and we were at some gigantic stadium and Adam Clayton walked in with a case of Guinness,” says Jenkins with boyish glee. “Isn’t that great? He walked in with a case of Irish beer, he just walked in, and I was just star-struck to see him...I see The Edge—and they really do call him the Edge—and he goes ‘Hello Stephan’ and I go ‘You know my fucking name...