Word: peas
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...usually admired in fashion circles. Fresh and new are the watchwords. And in the first two decades of his 46-year career, Saint Laurent, now 65, threw up plenty that was both. He made trousers and suits completely acceptable dress for women, night and day. He glamorized the pea coat, the leather biker jacket, the safari jacket and the peasant dress. He scandalized couture with transparent fabrics. His way with color was as improbable as it was unerring...
...however, but the esteemed James P. Sullivan, nicknamed “Sulley” (John Goodman)—a genial hulk with long blue fur and purple spots, always accompanied by his loyal but absent-minded Scare Assistant, Mike Wakowski (Billy Crystal), who resembles a one-eyed green pea. Both work for Monsters, Incorporated—an energy plant in the well-run township of Monstropolis, managed by a certain Henry J. Waternoose (James Coburn), who scuttles around on his many legs lamenting the energy crisis. Monstropolis, it turns out, runs on children’s screams?...
...made of Seattle’s magical regular-season run, the Yankees sure disposed of the Mariners pretty quickly. Most Seattle fans were seeing the writing on the wall by about the third inning Monday night—maybe even sooner, if you consider Lou Piniella’s pea-brained decision to start Aaron Sele (0-6 lifetime in the postseason) over Freddy Garcia in a must-win game at The Stadium. What was he thinking...
...Consider the menu for President Clinton's last state dinner, for India's Prime Minister Atal Behari Vajpayee: Darjeeling tea, smoked poussin, chilled green pea and cilantro soup, marble potatoes, wild copper river salmon, red kuri squash and rice, bean ragout, Swiss chard custard, garlic-chanterelle emulsion, young greens and herb salad, heirloom tomatoes, dry aged cheese blossom and 25-year-old sherry dressing. Followed by mango and banner lotus, litchis and raspberry sauce, "a majestic tiger's delight," honey almond squares and chocolate coconut bars. It's not Indian takeout, but there are strong hints of the guest...
...padded away, and I sat for a few minutes in my gown, feeling mortal, the way you do if you're 57 and scantily clad, sitting in bright light. I could imagine that a pea-size tumor in my innards had sprouted and sent evil tendrils shooting through the lymph nodes, and now dense jungle growths had a grip on my vitals and in a few months people would sit in an Episcopal church and softly weep for me and then have a nice lunch. I was almost to the scattering of the ashes when the doctor walked...