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Word: pokerful (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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When he launches into one of his droll, deadpan stories, Brady's Buddha-like face tries to conceal an impish grin, with all the success of a novice poker player hiding a royal flush. He relishes answering questions by formulating quotable one-liners and piling adjectives upon metaphors. Occasionally, when he crosses the line from irrepressibility to irreverence, Brady gets into trouble. Once, aboard the campaign plane as it flew over a Louisiana forest fire, he gleefully shouted: "Killer trees! Killer trees!" The reference to Reagan's campaign gaffe about the contribution of trees to air pollution grounded...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Affable Bear: White House Press Secretary James Brady | 1/19/1981 | See Source »

...small musical instrument factory in south Taiwan, that Michael has told me himself he believes in feng shui, that feels it. "I never feel anything. It's silly," Dean replies. Dean and Michael often gamble together, playing Mah Jong, which is technically illegal but extremely popular, the Chinese poker. Michael usually wins, Dean usually loses...

Author: By Stephen R. Latham, | Title: More Than One Great Wall | 11/24/1980 | See Source »

Like a college student writing home for money after losing his shirt in a poker game, Cambridge turned with hope to the University this week in the wake of Proposition...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Money Worries | 11/15/1980 | See Source »

...majestic and forbidding. Along with the peaks, glaciers, freedom and big bucks, he gives us the alcoholic cabin fever of the Arctic winter, the grimy linoleum floors of numberless joints like the Northern Saloon in Nome where half the boozers sling .357 Magnums as equipment for late night poker, and the glazy-eyed dissolution of the Eskimos who can only watch the white conquest from the alleys while hanging around getting tight and quietly hysterical...

Author: By Francis MARK Muro, | Title: The Ragged Edge | 11/7/1980 | See Source »

...course, it soon emerges that escape is impossible. Slowly, surely the wilderness, the strange neighbors, the open sky come to annoy Arthur. She tries to beat up her husband with a fireplace poker ("I picture it drenched with blood, sticky as my arms, covered with fire," she says of his head). She lays awake at night convinced that the moonlight is actually streaming from the bottom of a UFO. She convinces herself that someone is watching her. "I sit in the snow with my back against a rock. I try to read. After a time the eyes find me there...

Author: By William E. Mckibben, | Title: Paradise Misplaced | 10/20/1980 | See Source »

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