Word: parkaed
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...want to see a presidential candidate, get close enough to look him (or her) in the eye, and actually be part of the foot-stomping, sign-waving, hand-clapping, ear-splitting, democracy-participating throng that most Americans never encounter? It's simple - just pack your parka and come to Iowa...
...visual envelope. We get the usual rap video schtick—a swanky hotel and club, gorgeous scantily clad women, and free-flowing champagne. Beanie and R. Kelly’s styles are the brightest spots in the video. Whether Beanie’s rocking a fur-trimmed orange parka with a gentlemanly gray cap, a sleek black suit with a crisp white shirt, or a flashy gold chain and baggy jeans, he proves that he’s as versatile as anyone else in the couture game. Kelly’s bold, bordering-on-tacky accessorizing is equally impressive...
...easy. Perfectly timed, impeccably organized and unfailingly kind to all varieties of movies, the Toronto International Film Festival (TIFF) has become the industry's hottest festival ticket by acting as a kind of supportive, low-maintenance girlfriend. Unlike its major festival sisters - that sexy cougar Cannes, 60, and parka-clad hipster Sundance, 29 - Toronto, 32, is inclusive, friendly and even prettier once you get to know...
...truth is, I suspected from the moment I saw Romney's photo that he was my one true MySpace-friend candidate. His photo has him in an Olympic parka, looking off-camera, having just done some kind of outdoorsy activity that we might do together one day. His site blasts the ultracool remix of Elvis' A Little Less Conversation, which told me so much. Namely, that Romney, like me, is not a man who enjoys foreplay. And he spent some real time on the "interests" section. I know the bands he likes (all cool except the Kingston Trio), his favorite...
...Hall was fated to die, one dead man refused to stay that way. Late in the day, as the Camp 4 climbers got set to trek down, they noticed what appeared to be an apparition: trudging toward them, his parka open, his mittens missing, his arms held before him like the vampiric undead, was Beck Weathers, risen from the snow. Somehow, inexplicably, he had survived the nightlong storm, living through bitter, anoxic conditions that should have killed him hours before. To be sure, his condition was grim. His hands, frozen and long past useless, had the white, waxy look...