Word: drunkness
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...with six others who must sleep in shifts. His mother's source of income destroyed, he can no longer afford university. "My dreams have died," Soares says. "We have no jobs, no education, no homes." The former law student admits to knowing people in the camps who get drunk on palm spirits and throw stones at peacekeepers and passersby. "I don't do it myself," he says. "But life is so frustrating, it's hard to calm down...
...House: Lowell Concentration: Social Anthropology Hometown: Blowjob City, Montana. Yeehaw! Ideal Date: Inexpensive. Best way for a girl to get your attention: Look really wasted. Where to find you on a Saturday night: Listen to a police scanner. About 6’ tall, Caucasian male, known to be drunk and suspected of first degree handsomeness. First thing you notice about a girl: 1. Full set of teeth? Check. 2. Depth of character. Your best pick-up line: You live in Weld? Have you heard of the Cleveland Steamer? Best lie you’ve ever told: Alexandra Palma, the results...
...friend Felicia while we, the plebeians, waited in line as several famous-looking anorexics glided to the front of the line and straight into the shows. As several goblets of champagne had already been foisted on us, almost without our knowledge (it is apparently required that one be drunk at 10 in the morning while viewing the collections), I shouted this question rather loudly.“No!” my friend would whisper back to me, slapping me upside the head as I reached down to grab a miniature low-fat cupcake from an outlying table...
...Debauchery.” By 11:30 p.m., people are already being turned away from the door, including Benjamin M. Kultgen ’08 and his friends. “This is setting a new standard for Harvard gestapo-ism,” yells Kultgen. Is he drunk? “No,” insists Kultgen. “He’s only had ten shots,” adds a friend. Others who waited to buy tickets were also disappointed. By 10 p.m., 600 tickets had been sold for the event, which had a capacity...
...tell people who don't know carnival that it is the same ritual every year, just two weeks of happy, drunk people cavorting around the streets half naked. And like every year, my innate Scottish reserve stops me from jumping into the fray with the same abandon as everyone else. Yet as I slip my cocktail back in my belt and watch grown adults spray each other with foam, I know that if I really want to enjoy myself, I must join the ranks of those happy drunk people cavorting around half naked. "Carnival is interaction," agrees my friend Tatiana...