Word: blonded
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Shades of O.J.: a celebrity accused of killing his blond wife, a long journey across L.A. in a white car filmed from the sky by news helicopters, public recriminations from the victim's family. "I had no doubt Blake did it or, at the very least, wrote someone a check to take care of it," Peter Carlyon, the victim's brother, told TIME. "I think he probably pulled the trigger himself." There is even a detective on the case named Ron Ito, though police quickly noted that he isn't related to Lance Ito, the judge...
...road has been a rocky one for Waller, 58, who had his private life dragged into the spotlight in 1997 when he left his wife for a blond thirtysomething ranch hand. Even more worrying to loyal Waller fans, Warner Books, which made a mint on Bridges, rejected the sequel, which instead will be published next week by a small Texas press. That's like Paramount passing on Titanic...
...been increasingly comfortable in my skin ever since my mother did what any good mother of a future Glamourpuss would have done when her teary-eyed seven year old daughter complained that she wasn’t as pretty as her favorite blond-haired, milky white baby-doll. Mother threw said doll in the trash, made a fun ceremony of it, really, and bought this mildly vain, mildly sensitive and starkly black soul a cadre of beautiful black dolls (and a few Hot Wheels, Tonka Trucks and GI Joes to make sure seven-year-old me didn?...
Madonna--she of the blond ambition--is the American pop paradigm. She debuted with prefab, coquettish tunes such as Borderline and Like a Virgin, then experimented with her own songwriting, as well as Latin and dance-club influences, while never forgetting to deliver at least a smidge of sex (usually more) in her songs and videos. Of the new generation, Britney Spears is the most precocious student. On her most recent album, Britney, Spears messes around with hip-hop rhythm--the white girl's stock assertion of musical growth--and sings I'm Not a Girl, Not Yet a Woman...
...hourly trips to the supply-closet-turned-bathroom because disturbances jog her mind back into the reality of the horribly cramped seats and tummy-piercing tray table. In her mind’s eye, Avid Book-Reader is in the arms of Fabio or some other bottle blond Adonis. Glamourpuss notes that Avid Book-Reader insists on re-reading pages 307-10. Ineresting. Glamourpuss vows to sneak a peek at said pages if Avid Book-Reader ever dislodges herself from her seat. The possibility seems remote...