Word: contortedly
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...night, student overseers at all but one of the dances enforce a dress code. Swing and ball-room music dominates at a few affairs. At another semi-formal, students contort themselves to the latest discotheque tunes in a hall so dark that it would have been impossible to distinguish between tuxedos and clean football jerseys. Many at the semi-formal compare the atmosphere to that of the 1920s. "It's the same old song put to different music," one student complains. "Why couldn't I have been here six years ago when Yale and Harvard didn't mean...
Another interesting facet of the Dartmouth team is that its members grow in size as the game wears on. Their faces contort with an incredibly grim determination, and their bodies swell to the point where they are impassible on defense, and unstoppable on offense...
Joni's first experiment with different tunings came when she encountered the F chord, a nemesis of guitar novices. It is normally made by placing the index finger across all six strings while three other fingers spastically contort to positions lower on the neck of the guitar. Joni discovered that by retuning five of the six strings several half steps, she could strum an open F chord that had a deeper, richer sound. New, unique chords were possible, and because they could be formed simply by moving one finger between different frets, intricate eight-note-to-the-bar finger...
...devil. Her face grows bloated, crossed by pusfilled lesions; her eyes become cat's orbs that crawl back in her head; her skin swells and turns a swamp color; her hair gets sticky and snaky; her voice comes out the croak of a just-cured male mute; convulsions contort her body and it flips like a wounded crocodile's tail; she drools green gook when she is not squirting vomit (pea soup) into the faces of the psychiatrists and priests who come to treat her. Before the guests at her mother's dinner party she urinates on the carpet...
...loves for Father's boots). He does throw in a welcome parody of Godard and his films, all hollow Hollywood-loving childishness, abetted by the eternally adolescent actor Jean-Pierre Leaud. But even its welcome is soon worn out. And the last tango itself is pathetic: painted Fellini faces contort, and toothpick bodies sway on a dance floor as Paul tries to impress Jeanne at ringside with foreign accents and booze, and after a few drunken moves on the dance floor, flashes a moon at an irate dance judge...