Word: lorde
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...martyred yourself somewhere in between day two and three. Perhaps she could have done us all a favor and "uninvited" herself from the pop music scene for a couple of millennia or so. If Smith had seen her tortuous Woodstock show, he would have casted her as the Dark Lord Satan herself. If I were God, I would have kicked her off my Heavenly Choir whether she had rebelled against me or not. As for the rest of the orchestral soundtrack that sounds like a mix of "Barney and Friends" and Excalibur, who gives a damn? Alanis: F The rest...
...instance, the much-criticized BGLTSA postering campaign during Coming Out Week aimed to shock all decent students, but none so much as Christians. Posters like "Every Tenth Jesus is Gay," "St. Sebastian: the first fag in the military" and "I praise the good Lord with my wet, quivering clitoris," could serve no other purpose besides insulting and intimidating the faithful. But as disgruntled undergraduates, prospective students and bubbly tour groups milled through the Yard, the signs remained. If gays were to face the abuse they heap indiscriminately on Christian students, one would not expect similar docility...
...sipping coffee from your "World's Greatest Dad" mug, you may be frantically calling home to ask why their washing machine keeps spinning your clothes but never wets them. (They have thoughtfully left the instructions out, but they're in Dutch.) The thought of strangers in your home doing Lord knows what to your fine furniture and china may be enough to spoil your stay at their castle on the Rhine...
...flygirls are not an entirely new creation: the original script by Lord Andrew Lloyd Webber and Tim Rice calls for a small group of singer-dancers called "Soul Girls" to appear ever so often in the show. However, it was James A. Carmichael '01, the choreographer for this production of Jesus Christ Superstar, who really gave the "Soul Girls" some soul: he added a dash of 'tude, a handful of sexy moves, and really transformed them into the hot-n-spicy, no-holds-barred flygirls they are today. (That's fly with a "ph," as in "Phlygurlz," their self-proclaimed...
...just the type of movie that American filmmakers would never risk making. (Instead, we get classics like Three to Tango! My dog could have peed that script.) The plot's so pithy: drug dealer accidentally leaves the 100,000 marks that he's supposed to give to his drug lord on a subway train. He and his girlfriend, fiery, red-haired Lola, have 20 minutes to scrounge up the dough. The movie unfolds in virtually real-time. Remember the last time we tried that? Johnny Depp in Nick of Time? To give the movie the juice it needs, director...