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...Grecian-style gown -- a fairy-tale princess dressed by Woolworth's. Her monologues alternate between airy twittering (she refers to herself as the "goddess" and the "petite flower") and truck-stop sarcasm. To the guy who comes on to her in a punk-rock bar, she growls, "I was lookin' for someone a little closer to the top of the food chain." Feminist frustration is mixed with existential nuttiness: "You know what scares me? When you have to be nice to some paranoid schizophrenic . . . just because she lives in your body." Redeeming all this from idle perversity are hints...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Show Business: Stand-Up Comedy On a Roll | 8/24/1987 | See Source »

...Wahter ya'll lookin' at, boys? She ain't mah neighbor's wife or nothin'... where's that dern stage...

Author: By Eric Pulier, | Title: Oral Arguments | 4/9/1987 | See Source »

...Chicago club, an upscale crowd got joyously behind the heavy beat and the Duane Eddy- style guitar rumble of Earle's band, even as they paid respectful attention to such back-against-the-wall Earle lyrics as "I hit the beer joints every Friday night/ Spend a little money lookin' for a fight/ It don't matter if I lose or win/ 'Cause Monday I'm back on the losin' end again." That has always been one of the neatest tricks in country, writing about the losing end and coming out a winner, and the fact that Earle can carry...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Steve Earle: The Color of Country | 9/8/1986 | See Source »

...another one. Praise God." In Clarksdale, White got a trim from Barber- Musician Wade Walton, who told the story of catching a fox. "They're very sly. They don't make nice pets. You can't train 'em. I had him under control, though, long as I was lookin' at him. I named him Chicken...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: In Mississippi: Visiting Around | 6/9/1986 | See Source »

Certain members of their ranks, perhaps eager to prove their manhood in some heavy-metal courtship ritual, have the habit of inviting members of the Harvard community, myself included, to relatively unarmed combat. Seldom a week goes by without some Twisted Sister fan sneering "Lookin' sweet, babycakes," at me, or trying to slamdance me off of the sidewalk...

Author: By Benjamin N. Smith, | Title: Square Ordeal | 4/23/1986 | See Source »

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