Word: hang
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...shot of the salami-slicing machine sectioning the brain of Genevieve Bujold's best friend, who died as a result of going into a mysterious coma during a routine abortion, but just before the neat bit where Bujold gets chased through the big refrigerator where the frozen corpses hang by their heads, there is a really fantastic murder by electrocution, and they don't just dim the lights to let you know the juice is on, or anything corny. You get a head-on view of the dying guy, with some pretty good jerks and twitches, and really...
...earned him the nickname "Monty" when he came to Cambridge. Every Saturday, young Irion rose at 6 a.m. and went down to the asphalt courts built by the local Kiwanis Club to play roundball until sunset. When he wasn't playing basketball, Irion and his cronies "just used to hang out on Betty's corner." It was on the corner of the street and Betty owned the joint, he explains...
...LATEST BOOK, The Zapping of America, Paul Brodeur relates a poignant experience during his Cape Cod vacation last June. He was reading the Provincetown Advocate and draped across the front page was the wary proviso: "TRURO RADAR COULD FRY HANG-GLIDERS...
...hang-gliders do not glide in the air-space around the North Truro base anymore, at least not without the knowledge that they may be fried like a leg of chicken, or poisoned by potentially fatal doses of microwave radiation. But for a few years, the happy-go-lucky vacationers and beach-combers around North Truro swam, flew, and enjoyed their summers unaware of the fact that intense beams of microwave radiation were travelling through their bodies, much the same way more concentrated microwave frequencies are projected through the food inside brand new microwave ovens...much the same way every...
...that the Secretary of the Treasury does not savor luxury. He likes Cardin belts, monogrammed shirts and $500 Dunhill suits, but on his round shoulders they just flop and hang. He also has a taste for $1.25 Jamaican Dunhill cigars, of which he burns up five to seven a day. Whenever he does not have an official dinner, he likes to slip out to a small and modest Italian restaurant, where he is seldom recognized. When it is on the menu, he orders steak tartare, which he tosses and stirs with great panache...