Word: motel
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Therein lies the reason why I'm not huddling in some miserable little motel near St. Lawrence University as the Larries and their nearby rivals at Clarkson College prepare to pummel the visiting Harvard hockey team tonight and tomorrow night...
...Homicide Detective David Calhoun, it seemed at first like a rock-solid case. A minister and his two children had been walking by a Houston motel last month when they saw three men spill out of one of the rooms. Two of them were shooting the other while he begged for mercy. The churchman saw the murderers clearly and Calhoun knew that he was going to make a "super witness." But then the minister was paid a visit by two men, once at his home and again outside Houston police headquarters on the day he was to identify one captured...
...crime had been nightmarishly brutal: a six-hour gang rape in an Anderson, S.C., motel room by three men, after which the 80-lb. woman victim required four pints of blood and five days of hospitalization. The rapists had pleaded guilty in the hope that as first offenders, they would receive a lenient sentence from Judge C. Victor Pyle. "The defendants," intoned Pyle, "shall be confined to the custody of the South Carolina department of corrections for a period of 30 years." That was the maximum. The real jolt came when the judge added that he would suspend the sentence...
...right-wing protests on campus. Right-wing yahoos are jubilant that the U.S. finally found a country small enough for Reagan's supercommandos to cream. Yuk it up, guys... if you think Cuba or Nicaragua is next, your CIA and Army buddies will find themselves stuck in a roach motel ("they'll check in but they won't check out"). To be sure, the spectacle of "rescued" U.S. medical students kissing American soil made better press for Reagan than the nightly newscasts of mangled bodies of over 200 dead Marines in Beirut. But after all the flag-waving has died...
...holdings include such staid institutions as the Australian of Sydney and the Times of London. But the eight big-city tabloids of Press Baron Rupert Murdoch, 52, which cover their turf from Boston to Fleet Street, rarely stray from lurid roots: NUDE PRINCIPAL DEAD IN MOTEL (San Antonio Express); HEADLESS BODY IN TOPLESS BAR (New York Post). Last week Murdoch took his headline high jinks to the U.S. heartland. He bought the troubled Chicago Sun-Times, the nation's eighth largest urban daily, for $90 million in cash...