Word: punch
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...pair of attractive 24-year-old, six-feet-tall twins from Lawrence, Mass., clad in long, flowered dresses, stood up, took the reporters by the arms, introduced themselves ("Hi, I'm Jan and this is Josey") and insisted that the two reporters have some fruit punch and "meet Arthur...
When play resumed, the cagers' fluid scoring punch had as much zip left as cold mashed potatoes. The two biggest cogs thrown into the Crimson machinery were the Quakers' leading scorers John Engels, who skied for 27 points, and Keven McDonald. The two average 15.6 and 18.8 points per game respectively...
...House into a cartoon museum. His name is Garry Trudeau, and his Doonesbury is more than mindless mirth. It is a climate of opinion, a mocking view of American life. Since the spidery lines of Doonesbury first appeared in the Yale campus newspaper in 1968, they have become the punch lines of some 449 dailies. The strip is now scanned by more than 60 million readers in the U.S. and Canada. Hard-and soft-bound collections have sold over three-quarters of a million copies, and the biggest assemblage yet, The Doonesbury Chronicles (Holt, Rinehart & Winston; $12.95 hardcover, $6.95 paper...
...just about all kinds of politics. But Trudeau also laments the passing of the idealistic 1960s. A melancholy Rev. Scot Sloan resigned his campus chaplaincy recently because "nobody cares about the issues any more," and when friends began mocking that decade of noble purpose, Mark Slackmeyer pulled his punch lines to wonder, "God, what's happened...
...ever wonder why we have been imported to this enclave surrounded by clusters of old three-deckers and empty lots where our age-mates, back from the service, are pounding the pavements, where young women strangely haggard work the night shift and Dunkin Donuts, where men with lunchpails punch in at Finast and Fenton Shoe, where old women on their way to our dining halls slip off gaseous buses onto the ice before dawn? What are we doing here? How shall we live? Are we somehow part of their burden? Will we always stand over against them...