Word: licked
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Only when our oil reserves are depleted and our Government crawls on its hands and knees to King Feisal to lick the oil from his feet, only then will I alter my driving habits, do my wash in cold water and lower my thermostat...
...simplistic arrangement is plodding; guitarist John Platania's work is indecisive, given to noodling. (His work throughout the album is inconsistent, remarkable from a man responsible for the opening lick to "Domino," something that is in my Guitarists Hall of Fame next to the beginning of "Smoke on the Water.") The song's bitterness stands out, and it is a measure of the artist's bitterness that he is unable to articulate...
...land says PISS OFF. To the north, lights from the Woomera range and tracking station, used for guiding American astronauts, glow in the night. To the east, the moonlit rails turn molten in the Popsicle-or-ange sunrise. This is the time of day a kangaroo likes to lick the dew off the steel track. Or when a yellow-eyed dingo, Australia's coyote, will stand its ground and stare sourly at the train while a spindly-legged emu, the local version of an ostrich, will try to outrun the 3,300-h.p. diesel express...
...foot of their masters' bags. There were no cats to be found in the quarter mile wide three quarters of a mile long concert field because there was no one place where a cat could find a single space where he wouldn't be touched before he could lick himself clean. A cat's nightmare. One could imagine, say, 600,000 dogs snuggling up to a huge Gaines or Gravy Train bowl to lap up a few stray sounds while the cameras whirred away...
...American pays a visit to Soviet Russia and becomes unwillingly involved with the struggles of a Russian writer. Presented with the challenge of smuggling the Russian's forbidden stories out of the country, the American can respond only with fear and irritation. He wants to be left alone to lick the froth off the attractions of a tourist's Russia and to work out the personal problems he has tried to leave behind in America. "Like Isaac Babel, 'I am master of the genre of silence,'" the Russian sighs, but he is confronted only with the paranoiac hedging...