Word: nosing
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...Stark, some prisoners told of extortion demands of up to $40,000 by Mexican lawyers promising to get them released. Before he was transferred from Mexico City's Santa Marta prison, Frank Machado, 29, a Californian who has served five years for smuggling cocaine, said, "I got my nose broken and my eyes split open the first week. That was the cons' way of letting me know I had to pay protection...
When the verdict came down, Santa had the rights to Rudolph the Reindeer's shiny red nose, and the corporation had everything else. It was an odious decision, but those were odious days. The corporation offered Rudolph a lucrative salary if he would remain with them. It posed a difficult decision for Rudolph, but the prospect of eating moss at chic restaurants and wearing all the latest antlers finally won him over. Santa was crushed. He died a broken and lonely...
...restoring the column. Bankrupt, he fled to Switzerland and died in exile in 1877. There is always room for argument over the extent of Courbet's realism. The man who insisted on setting down the bald truth of visual experience, from a drunken priest's red nose to the drool on a stag's jaws, was allegorist and history painter as well as factual witness; and there he could be very puzzling indeed. The debate on Courbet has been stepped up by a magnificent retrospective that opened this fall at the Grand Palais in Paris and will...
...quite solidly built, despite being over 80 years old, but he has skinny legs dangling below this massive torso, and his arms tend to hang limply on either side of his gut. His head is enormous, completely hairless, speckled, and flattened on top. He has a spectacular hooked nose, beady little eyes, and odd set of small, fleshy lips and a knobby little chin which, despite his obesity, would occasionally detach itself from his neck. I am trying desparately to avoid thinking what I am thinking, but he looks more like Charles Addams' Uncle Fester than anything else...
...THERE WERE such a thing as a death wish for albums, this one would have it--it is a record that fairly thumbs its nose at the Intelligent Rock Listener, inside and out. The cover art, for one thing, is nightmarish--bright red lettering, a black-and-white checkerboard pattern spelling out "Elvis is King," and Costello himself feering out from a lurid yellow background. He clutches a Fender menacingly, and leans forward in that half-aggressive pigeon-toed stance so dear to the hearts of '50s rockers; his eyes are genuinely loony, wild and dangerous-looking, behind huge Buddy...