Word: leer
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...costar, "but she's not a boar, although she is a theatrical ham of no small dimensions." Miss Piggy has said nothing about Bubbles; all she does is inscrutably smile about their upcoming duellet. But you can't make Sills purse from a sow's leer...
These are the people who leer through the history of the Red Sox. Like Bill Lee lighting a candle and leaving it on Don Zimmer's desk in memory of friend Bernie Carbo, on the day of Carbo's importation to Cleveland. Like Jimmy Piersall walking up to the pitcher's mound one afternoon during batting practice and firing a limp stream of water at homeplate with a squirt...
...Bill would look at me through his dark glasses and wink (or was it a twitch) and smile (or was it a leer), and say to whomever happened to be sitting on the wooden stool next to his, "What a smile. God, she looks mischievous! Look at those pretty lips." I thought of Red Riding Hood--the better to do what with? I got attention, kisses on the hand, compliments. One of the waitresses came...
...able to match my tales of the people who lived in Stoughton my freshman year. Person for person, they were psychos. Zozo and Yarco, Stoughton's hulky Cuban sentinels, pouncing upon each girl as she entered the dorm: "What did you do tonight?" (Avuncular whine) "Who were you with?" (Leer) "Were his roommates there?" (Snicker) "A lady wouldn't do that." (Dismissed); Rob, the awestruck and disoriented Midwestern roommate of the Death Poet, wandering about sadly, latching onto anyone who would listen, occasionally making conversation with the two calculator-addled physics jocks who haunted the stairs and discussed their...
...able to match my tales of the people who lived in Stoughton my freshman year. Person for person, they were psychos. Zozo and Yarco, Stoughton's hulky Cuban sentinels, pouncing upon each girl as she entered the dorm: "What did you do tonight?" (Avuncular whine) "Who were you with?" (Leer) "Were his roommates there?" (Snicker) "A lady wouldn't do that." (Dismissed); Rob, the awestruck and disoriented Midwestern roommate of the Death Poet, wandering about sadly, latching onto anyone who would listen, occasionally making conversation with the two calculator-addled physics jocks who haunted the stairs and discussed their...