Word: pooping
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Nevertheless, everyone wants famous Nathan to do the right thing. A stranger on a bus is disappointed to see him on public transportation and suggests buying a helicopter to "fly straight over the dog-poop." He is urged to invest his money elsewhere than in his shoe, dress more expensively and circulate with other celebrities. The result is Zuckerman in nighttown with a glamorous Irish actress named Caesara O'Shea who reads Kierkegaard and disappears in the morning to continue her top-secret affair with Fidel Castro...
...years in the research and writing, Wolfe's most ambitious work is crammed with inside poop and racy incident that 19 years ago was ignored by what he terms the "proper Victorian Gents" of the press. The fast cars, booze, astro groupies, the envies and injuries of the military caste system were not part of what Americans would have considered the right stuff. Wolfe lays it all out in brilliantly staged Op Lit scenes: the tacky cocktail lounges of Cocoa Beach where one could hear the Horst Wessel Song sung by ex-rocket scientists of the Third Reich; Vice...
...sets and costumes effectively highlight the juxtaposition between Captain Shotover's loose, churlish demeanor and the aristocratic pretentiousness of the younger generation. Shotover's house looks like an old sea vessel; its rickety poop deck is fashioned as a veranda and netting drapes the furniture and bookcases. The lavish, flamboyant costumes are appropriately incongruous in Shotover's domestic environment...
Panic in Needle Park again. The junkies now share that defoliated triangle on Manhattan's Upper West Side with the dog walkers, but the city's notorious new scoop-the-poop law hit the books just as unions at the city's three major newspapers hit the bricks. So Needle Parkers, like animal owners elsewhere in the city, are suffering a dearth of newsprint with which to do their dirty work. Last week one Manhattan matron and keeper of 22 cats sent an urgent bulletin to her sister in Massachusetts: Load the station wagon with Boston Globes and come quick...
...Russian spy or something. It would be different, of course, if he were a James Bond or somebody of that ilk, but he doesn't look the type. I think she should get a divorce, go back to Greece and her ships and hang around the poop deck and forget the whole thing. What do you advise...