Word: leopard-skin
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...only one who found P-E-N-I-S. For the sake of numerical balance, the Arts team was joined by FM Associate and Crimson President-elect Amit R. Paley ’04. Paley became incredibly involved in the game, leaning over the board until his leopard-skin boxer shorts were visible. In a later CNN interview, Paley admitted that they were a gift from his mother, and noted that you can’t spell associate without...
...Humor is central to many of the works, often as a neo-surrealist celebration of the absurd. Edward Ruscha's can of Spam rocketing across a white canvas and Colin Self's Leopard-skin Nuclear Bomber - No. 2 cannot fail to evoke a smile. Conversely, Roy Lichtenstein manages to take the humor out of the comic-book genre, reducing the style to its purely graphic elements...
...second-skin, cleavage-proud knitwear or the sheerest orange chiffon, all heads turn, salivate and explode. Who but Marilyn could so effortlessly justify such luscious insanity? She is the absolute triumph of political incorrectness. When she swivels aboard a cruise ship in clinging jersey and a floor-length leopard-skin scarf and matching muff, she handily offends feminists, animal-rights activists and good Christians everywhere, and she wins, because shimmering, jewel-encrusted, heedless movie stardom defeats all common morality. Her wit completes her cosmic victory, particularly in her facial expression of painful, soul-wrenching yearning when gazing upon a diamond...
...comprehensive song, "Visions of Johanna" is one of four songs performed for the concert from one of his best albums, Blonde on Blonde--released just two days prior to the concert. Other songs from this album included on Live 1966 are "Fourth Time Around," "Just Like A Woman," and "Leopard-Skin Pill-Box Hat." On "Visions," Dylan's tone is full and resonant; his articulation is absolutely astounding. "But Louise, she's alright, she's just near, she's delicate, she seems like the mirror, but she just makes it all too concise and clear that Johanna is not here...
After this mostly promising start, though, Weiland's album is spottier than a leopard-skin fur coat. None of the songs outright suck, but the album's second half is too little musical creativity spread over too much time. "Cool Kiss" and "The Date" combine blinding flashes of white noise with lyrics ("Keep your hands up off of my lips / Capsize just like a tanker / Kill Kill Piss Piss") that are an amateur Freudian's wet dream. "Son" is a gently motoring ode to Weiland's new son, a la "Kooks" off Hunky Dory. "Jimmy Was a Stimulator...