Word: hellings
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Brabeck was called back to Switzerland in 1975, and after the turbulence he had just lived through, "Vevey seemed as boring as hell," he recalls. Within three months, barely enough time to hang the curtains and find a school for the eldest of his three children, he was on a plane back to Chile along with his family, this time as Nestle's local marketing director. Three other executives had turned down the job, nervous about the political turmoil. Brabeck jumped...
...forced to concede to Harvard’s superior athletic authority and have been paying ever since. That inaugural game resulted in the first of many humiliating defeats for Yale...on and off the field. Over at the first ever tailgate, seven Harvard students were arrested for public drunkenness. Hell yeah. A few years later, the traditional game took a violent turn. This game, held in Springfield, Massachusetts, prior to the construction of Harvard Stadium, resulted in more than one casualty. Dubbed “The Springfield Massacre,” the game resulted in a broken leg, a broken...
...mercenaries. Bardem, a merciless machine, pivots on the peculiar axis of coin-tossing to decide whether certain victims live or die. Having cornered Brolin’s horrified wife, he asks her to “call it,” in a voice that whispers rumors of the hell that exists inside. The Gabriel to Bardem’s Mephistopheles is Tommy Lee Jones ’69, the aging sheriff of Brolin’s hometown. Jones follows the trail of bodies just a step behind Bardem, hoping to protect Brolin from the unstoppable evil. Jones provides...
...perpetual Holiday," George Bernard Shawsaid, "is a good working definition of hell." This year the perennial ruckus over little girls' slutty Halloween costumes was still going strong even as the perennial ruckus over the War on Christmas began. It's as though we've supersized our holidays, so that they start sooner, last longer and cost more, until the calendar pages pull and tear, and we don't know which one we are meant to be celebrating...
...Magazine and some Twizzlers instead of bubble tea. And then I saw it. Leggings were everywhere. Leggings tucked into boots. Leggings with a dress. Leggings under a gigantic oversized shirt with a silkscreen of Blondie’s face. “What the hell?” I muttered under my breath. “Screw my thesis. I am going to investigate this!” I sat outside, on a bench near Peet’s Coffee, while a white guy in dreadlocks serenaded me with an off-key rendition of “Lover, You Should?...