Word: forelocks
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...Depp returns with director Tim Burton! Johnny Depp gets to murder people with much splatter! Johnny Depp sings! Let's face it, the curiosity meter on this one is turned to 11. And it was even before Depp got poliosis (that's the medical term for that goofy white forelock he's sporting...
...allowed to look dissimilar to Roy Martin--unintentionally flatters his charge by asking him whether he was ever a fighter jock. Martin needs this information to guide his presentation. After all, one should never bore the experienced with a nuts-and-bolts primer. The visitor answers negatively, tugs a forelock and asks how fast the F-20 accelerates from zero to 60. (Two and one-half minutes after a cold start, the Tigershark is flying at 38,000 ft., 13 miles from its base, the plane's radar locked in on an intruder 63 miles away.) The nuts-and-bolts...
...presidency. He is a Sunni in a largely Shi'ite country. His passions--attending Bach festivals in Europe and listening to Don Giovanni at home--are unusual among Iraqis. And given that half the country is under 20, Iraqis might wonder whether the tall man with a silver forelock is up to the job. Pachachi's aides argue that his age is an asset, especially after the Saddam era. "He's 81, so he's obviously not going to become a dictator," says Fareed Yasseen, an Iraqi-American consultant who serves as Pachachi's senior aide. And while U.S. officials...
...imagined that as a journalist, I was merely an invisible witness, as harmless as a recording secretary, as if I had letters of transit allowing me to pass between cops and rioters completely without consequence. The rioters left me alone but only because, with my blue eyes and flopping forelock of light-brown hair, they thought, in the half-light, that I was Bobby Kennedy. Otherwise, why would a white man be dumb enough to wander around like that in the middle of a riot in Harlem? So, like a jerk, I walked as a god among them...
...imagined that as a journalist, I was merely an invisible witness, as harmless as a recording secretary, as if I had letters of transit allowing me to pass between cops and rioters completely without consequence. The rioters left me alone but only because, with my blue eyes and flopping forelock of light-brown hair, they thought, in the half-light, that I was Bobby Kennedy. Otherwise, why would a white man be dumb enough to wander around like that in the middle of a riot in Harlem? So, like a jerk, I walked as a god among them...