Word: milked
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...make this grand theory truly watertight, we must show that it also works in a dynamic way. Ergo: when bad-coffee countries discover the bliss of Kenyan Blue, they should lay down their assault rifles at the first hiss of a milk steamer...
Which brings us to the decline and fall of the American empire. Yes, the mightiest nation on earth still slugs it out with the Saddams and the Milosevics. But willpower is melting away like foamed milk on top of a double-shot decaf. The numbers speak for themselves. At the beginning of this decade, there were but 500 "gourmet coffeehouses" in the U.S., says the National Coffee Association; now there are 7,000, including 2,000 Starbucks...
...says. "And we didn't get a raise in the last four years. The cost of living increases 3 percent a year. That's a 24 percent increase, compared to my no raise. I remember I used to go to church, and my parents gave me two dollars for milk, bread and the Sunday paper. And I still got change. Now the paper itself costs...
...busy gauging each candidate's authenticity. So far, her attempts to turn herself into a New Yorker have been amateurish. When the Chicago native proclaimed herself a closet Yankees fan, when the Methodist disclosed her Jewish roots, when the advocate for poor children came out in favor of milk price supports--these moves made her seem craven, ham-fisted. When the progressive copied her husband's tactic of using party soft money to finance early TV spots, she looked no better than he. And when Bill Clinton granted clemency to a group of Puerto Rican terrorists--a move that some...
...deep. Its yellows and pinks, its muted greens and blacks are autumnal; a pure buzz of nature's prodigious, generative force. And then, just one floor below, is this: a towering partition plastered with Warhol's hot pink and green wallpaper covered with cows' heads, like an advertisement for milk gone mad. On it, in clashing hues, is the artist's portrait of Elvis, gun drawn, off register, multiplied by four like a drunken vision. He stares you down, that famously curling lip, with all the swagger and pow of Pop's sardonic message: how a world of glossy goods...