Word: rabbiters
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...Like any president-elect, Ronald Reagan carries the baggage of pregnant campaign promises to office this January. Unlike others before him, however, "Ronnie" betrays a suspicious amount of faith in his grab-bag of rhetoric about economics--tax cuts, defederalization, and Laffer Curve explosions. Less government is the promiscuous rabbit he promises to produce from his cowboy hat to stimulate business. Let the private sector make us great again televisions and the late show for everyone...
...whole thing just may be viewed some day by calmer minds as the most distorted and peculiar political event yet invented in a system that had already run off the tracks. One good fellow compared the episode to an enlarged replay of Jimmy Carter and the killer rabbit-the rabbit being 6-ft., 1-in. Reagan with bushy hair and pink cheeks. All night long Carter swatted away at the intruder with his nuclear paddle and kept Reagan from climbing in the canoe and taking a bite...
Leverett House: Things should get easier at the tail end of a matching test, but this is a real stickler. Leverett House resident and soccer captain Michael Smith (Leicester, England) might be able to figure it out, though, because leverett is a British word for a rabbit. Rabbits, Bunnies, they're all the same...
...dancing in the streets of Washington, slaughtering hogs and boiling up big vats of grits out back of the Sans Souci." But as the Carter era wore on, Blount felt betrayed. He would not forgive his fellow Southerner for letting Congress, the Soviets, the Iranians and that killer rabbit make him look foolish. Why, he wonders, couldn't the President be more like his brother, a real, no-nonsense redneck? "The first Cracker President should have been a mixture of Jimmy and Billy," Blount reckons, "a cobbler of Billy's basic blackberries oozing up into and through Jimmy...
...bested Ted as once he beat the killer rabbit, down in the chigger latitudes. He smiles (force of habit) and meditates upon the Garden, like some mildly triumphant parson. Nearly four years pass behind his eyes: golden days, cardigan days, Billy Beer days; the abrupt surprise of Russian nastiness and the South Bronx ghettos. His reveries sweep to Jordan 's squirted Amarettos (a fancy drink for a good ole boy) and Vance and Lance, and jogger's tibia and all the money Billy made for being friends with Libya. But nothing can efface the joy of this renomination...