Word: bobbed
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...CANNOT HAVE CIA employees deciding what should be classified and what shouldn't. That's the beginning of the end. Bob Baer can't be at the CIA and decide that the Clinton Administration is screwing up on whatever and then go to the press. He can go to the inspector general or to Congress...
...Joseph Blanco, who died under enemy fire in Taji, Iraq, was borne past two rows of mourners holding American flags. Blanco's pallbearers wore neatly pressed military greens. But the onlookers were hardly regulation: outfitted in leather jackets, do-rags and multiple tattoos, with nicknames like Fugdaboutit and Fat Bob, wearing patches with legends like HEAVILY MEDICATED FOR YOUR PROTECTION, they had roared in earlier by the dozens on Harleys, Hondas and more Harleys, from as near as Palm Springs, Calif., and as far as Phoenix, Ariz., to take their places as honored guests of the bereaved--and as part...
...squandering of talent than an example of character as fate. But with producer Rick Rubin pushing their buttons, the Peppers summoned up two discs and 28 tracks' worth of ambition, and sure enough, they can still write hits. The first disc, subtitled Jupiter, is wall-to-wall melodies that bob and weave on Flea's bass playing and Anthony Kiedis' vocal cords. (Lyrically he's still concerned with the abstract fantasia that is his California life, but no matter.) The second disc, Mars, is more experimental but still catchy enough to play straight through. Welcome back, fellas...
...m.p.g. is part of the national vehicular patrimony. The voters are getting incensed every time they drop $75 to fill their SUVs and pickups while oil companies tote up record earnings. "What upsets me more than anything is the Democrats and Republicans keep pointing fingers," says insurance salesman Bob Morris, 59, of Palestine, Texas, whose weekly gas bill for his Camry has risen to $75. "Now I'm at the point, whoever's in office, I'm ready to vote...
...They meet icky, when Bob, clueless in his attempts to manage the mysteries of his recreational vehicle, has a spot of trouble cleaning out its chemical toilet, which geysers an astonishing amount of what is gently called "fecal matter" on their first overnight stop. Travis, who is omnicompetent in the practicalities of life on the open road, solves the problem, and the next thing you know he and his brood are trying to sweep the resistant Munros under their protective wing...