Word: droningly
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...only by the distance from the fro-yo spout to the floor. In today's Dairy Queen world, such an attitude is not surprising--which doesn't make such twisted monstrosities any less apalling. These "comes" are not created so much as they are mindlessly pumped out by the drone-like yogurt lackeys one would expect at the local McDonald's, not at the three-way-tied-for-first best university in the U.S. Today's column is less about making fro-yo than it is about cultivating your soul and freaking out the establishment...
Last Saturday night, the Advocate initiated sonic warfare with the city of Cambridge. Deafening explosions roared under machine gun clatter, while the drone and whine of bombers and the piercing scream of air-raid sirens echoed through the streets. In just under two-and-a-half hours, city forces managed to infiltrate the Advocate stronghold and suppress the uprising, and Cambridge residents were able to return to the quiet safety of their beds...
...Last Saturday night, the Advocate initiated sonic warfare with the city of Cambridge. Deafening explosions roared under machine gun clatter, while the drone and whine of bombers and the piercing scream of air-raid sirens echoed through the streets. In just under two-and-a-half hours, city forces managed to infiltrate the Advocate stronghold and suppress the uprising, and Cambridge residents were able to return to the quiet safety of their beds...
...Ohio clock just outside the Senate chamber is not a sight you want the children to see on their class trip. The lights go on, and Senators come out to put their spin on the day as if emerging from a war room. Senator John Chafee usually manages to drone on long enough to hip-check a horde of Democrats lurking behind him hoping to pounce before CNN ceases its live coverage...
Nobody's talking impeachment at the Emporia Livestock Sale Barn on Friday. It's almost noon, and a cattle auction is in progress. The drone of the auctioneer tells the story, head by head. Cows are going for between 27[cents] and 31[cents] per lb.--salvage price by local standards. "Should be 40[cents]," mutters Loren Wagaman, 79, a rancher taking a coffee break. Philip Bender chimes in. "They're not working for us in Washington," he says, paying for a cinnamon bun. "We're little peons to them. They don't give a dang about whether we make...