Word: earings
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...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...
...Friday, none of the committee members, not even my mother, had called me back. But I hope, within just a few weeks, to deliver a cleaner, decenter column, perhaps about Bush's tax proposal or the dangers of putting Q-Tips inside your ear. But until then, I'm going to the museum. I hear they have pictures of naked chicks...
...bikes in a parallel state of high-octane agitation, squirting STP performance goo from little plastic packets into their gas tanks. The bikes are tuned up and the mufflers are loosened so that the engine revving at full throttle sounds like a chain saw cutting bone: splintering, ear-shattering screeches that reverberate up and down the Sukhumvit streets. The bikers ride in a pack, cutting through back alleys, running lights, skirting lines of stalled Bangkok traffic, slipping past each other as they cut through the thick city smog. This is their night, the night they look forward to all week...
...work out of a White House office and then intervene on behalf of friends to win White House air-charter business have done serious damage to his public standing. 'The best politician the Democratic Party has turned up in a long time turns out to have a tin ear,' said a longtime friend. 'He has squandered his moral authority with a lot of this stuff. It leads people to say, "This man isn't really a populist; he is a phony, a fraud." And though this perception is completely wrong in substance, it is enormously damaging...
...such as the Beatles (signed in 1962), who recently spent an unprecedented eight weeks atop the Billboard album charts with their "1" hits compilation. The famously moody art deco hotel had been transformed into a Moroccan disco on three levels, complete with incense, scattered cushions and the sort of ear-splitting techno music middle-aged record executives love to have people think they listen to all the time. The party bulged at the seams with hundreds of middle-aged men in black (many of them also bulging at the seams) and girls (though many were actually mature women in their...