Word: fat
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1960-1969
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
Since November, when federal departments and agencies submitted requests totaling $125 billion, Johnson and Budget Director Charles Schultze have whittled, hacked, cut and squeezed to remove all the fat, and even some of the lean. Their efforts, said White House Press Secretary Bill Moyers, have resulted in reducing the budget to "very slightly under $115 billion. I have seen figures of $110 billion and $115 billion. I have a hunch the final figure will be somewhere between them." Moyers added meaningfully that the budget would be "harder to get close to $110 billion than to $115 billion...
...After all, only Sammy Davis could have induced the world's most famous lovers to appear on television, and only he, apparently, can top that coup. This week he will be away, and in his place will be Sean Connery. "If that doesn't get us a fat Nielsen," says an NBC executive, "we might as well all give up and go to the movies...
...last season, and the familiar cry went up: "The Celtics are dead!" Well, last week the Celtics, winners of seven straight N.B.A. titles, were leading the league again, and Center Bill Russell decided to set the record straight. "There," he said, pointing to a chunky man chewing on a fat cigar, "is The Man. This is his team. He put us together. He keeps us together. And he makes...
...isometric exercises, usually breakfasts alone (his family, along with 1,800 other dependents, was ordered out of the country by the President last February, is now in Honolulu). At his desk by 7:30, he rarely leaves it before nightfall, even then lugs home a fat briefcase. "He's a man who simply can't quit working," says an officer who has served three times with him. At least two days a week he zips around the field by Beechcraft U-8F and helicopter, often galloping to and from his craft at a dead run so that...
...live. We are not sure our land is under us. Ten feet away, no one hears us. But wherever there's even a half-conversation, we remember the Kremlin s mountaineer. His thick fingers are fat as worms, his words reliable as ten pound weights. His boot tops shine, his cockroach mustache is laughing. About him, the great, his thin-necked, drained advisors. He plays with them. He is happy with half-men around him. They make touching and funny animal sounds. He alone talks Russian. One after another, his sentences like horseshoes! He pounds them out. He always...