Word: pantingly
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Even before that struggle begins, Clinton has to shake Brown from his pant leg, or at least figure out how to prevent the former California Governor from drawing too much blood between now and the nomination. Tsongas' departure enables Clinton to quicken his march to the nomination; he already has nearly half the 2,145 delegates he needs, while Tsongas has 430, and Brown 129. But unlike Tsongas, Brown can't be starved out of the race, because he lives off the land, foraging for petty cash with his 800 number. He vows to wage an insurgent...
...Women can be very frightening. Sometimes I panic in the middle of talking to them; sometimes I can't even get that far. Sex is too complicated; relationships too difficult. I'm losing touch with my fellow man; I have an urge that creeps like chocolate syrup up my pant legs when I see a woman I can't have: to take out a big bowie knife...
...Lazy 8 ranch outside Dillon, Mont., a handful of tired cowboys shuffle into the calving barn for lunch. Troy Seilbach hangs up his spurs. Charlie Carpenter opens a thermos of coffee, and Blue, a dirty mixed-breed dog with a heavy pant, positions himself for a fallen crumb from one of the cowboys' Baggies-wrapped sandwiches. Emblazoned on the lunchroom's white wall is a hastily drawn map of Japan...
...self-defense. Take it like a man. Be a man. In Archibald MacLeish's play J.B., Job told the Comforter, "I can bear anything a man can bear -- if I can be one." But nobody talks about being a man anymore. When it comes to bloodlust, female gills pant up and down too. In the matter of boxing's fascination for writers, gender has certainly not been disqualifying. Still, the suspicion persists that males secrete some kind of $ archetypal fluid that makes it easier for them to understand what's at work here...
...greeted Matador Luis Reina as he stepped into the arena last week bedecked in his sky-blue, gold- embroidered suit of lights. But the cheers turned to jeers when the crowd noticed the letters A-K-A-I in red silk running down his sleeves and pant legs. For the first time, a matador had sold space on his costume for advertising. The Japanese electronics firm (the name translates as "red" in Japanese) is paying the 29-year-old, second-class matador about $16,000 every time he enters the ring in his logo-embellished outfit. That is roughly...