Word: cocked
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...second day, we paddled around Dau Be (Head of Calf) Island. (This region is a direction-giver's dream. "Three Peach Beach? Go past the rock that looks like a crocodile, round Duck Island, leave Fighting Cock Rock and Teapot Island on your left and you can't miss it.") Kayaking is hard work, and the limestone seascape is a maze of wrong turns. But for those in need of a rest, the islets are home to plenty of tiny beaches and endless caves, like the recently discovered Tam Cung: three cathedral chambers housing great stalagmites bunched together like organ...
Mmmmmhmmmm, just what the doctor ordered: lesbian-transsexual folk-rock from the goddess Ani Difranco’s Righteous Babe stables. Except…well. Bitch and Animal come across occasionally as ukelele-brandishing, homosexual takes on Blink-182, with songs about “The Best Cock on the Block,” a moving tribute to the wonders of dildos, and “Sparkly Queen Areola;” the songs are, according to the liner notes, “mainly ramblings on our cereal box of life, the sparkly sparkly pussy.” Only instead...
...thought; they are able to forget about it, on most days. We pretend we are immortal. And of course, we are--for the moment. People with a history of heart attacks, like me and Cheney, do, however, listen to the engine more carefully than most drivers. We cock an ear inward...
Taking their name from a type of cock ring, Arab Strap are probably best known for the unsolicited shout-out given by fellow Scots Belle and Sebastian on that band's third album, The Boy with the Arab Strap. Musically, the two bands are quite different. If the bouncy, wistful melodies of Belle and Sebastian are good for a late morning walk, Arab Strap are a comedown band, music to keep you company after all the bars are closed. Their first few albums were steeped in alcohol and sadness; indeed, Arab Strap's finest release, a live album, is titled...
...forget about it, on most days. We pretend we are immortal. And of course, we are... for the moment. Proceed as if, until notified otherwise. People with a history of heart attacks, like me and Cheney, do, however, listen to the engine more carefully than most drivers. We cock an ear inward. We experience, on some days, an unusual sense of vulnerability...