Word: lay
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...crowds, Chelsea was, perhaps for the first time since her public life began six years ago, on center stage. She smiled with grace. She worked the rope line. She knelt and talked to the children, a bright-eyed American echo of other countries' princesses. No matter what designs lay behind those pictures, what sympathy they were designed to generate, there were some undeniable realities. The night before, she had had to watch her father admit to something hideously painful. It may not have been a surprise to her, but that makes it no less of a tragedy. Her ability...
...when the President lashed back at the out-of-control prosecutor on Monday night, the lay minister who prides himself on his composure was suddenly out of control. Hatch appeared on five networks in an hour, breaking the previous indoor record for Consecutive Appearances in a Single Day, held by William Ginsburg. The screen went dark in the Map Room, and almost immediately there was Hatch on NBC threatening, "I'm just going to blow my stack" if he hears another word against Starr. His stack gone, he moved over to CNN, where he threatened to blow his "cork...
...whole lot else to do on Parnell, a dead-end street tucked away in the blighted neighborhood of Englewood on Chicago's South Side--especially when you're out of work and out of patience trying to find it. So residents spend their time sitting outside and getting the lay of the land by scoping out passing cars. They see somebody in an old clunker and know the rider's just scraping to get by in another low-wage gig. They spot somebody in one of those jazzed-up numbers, a sport-ute or a low-riding classic...
...loved it when your mom stuck it to your brother, and you love it now, rubbernecking to see a cop pull a car over. One of the best spots for catching good, stern lectures in our authority-free culture is the bench of lower-court judges. These guys can lay into punks and deadbeats like Father Knows Best on a caffeine...
...much fun. Sex, as one of the women (Catherine Keener, who kills with sarcasm) says, "is not a time for sharing." Jason Patric is the chief sleaze; Ben Stiller adds to his gallery of wormy guys; and Aaron Eckhart is the doleful husband who, when asked who his best lay was, unabashedly answers...