Word: rip
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...gone. Instead, in Pale Rider, Eastwood presents us with a character who is a walking mixed metaphor of death, kindness, and virility. The new fusion of Clint as sensitive actor with Eastwood as macho killer might actually be tolerable however, if the entire movie was not such an obvious rip off of Shane, the classic 50s Western with Alan Ladd...
...eastern Ohio, western Pennsylvania and southern Ontario, the hardest hit areas, dozens of roiling black spouts hopscotched across the countryside. It took just ten seconds for a twister to rip through a shopping center in Beaver Falls, Pa., tossing autos through plate glass windows as it went. "There was debris coming out of the top of the funnel," said Fireman Paul Gorby. "It was like a big runaway locomotive." The tornado peeled off the center's roof like a box top; rescue workers had to bring in a crane to lift fallen steel , girders that were pinning bodies below...
...body. A lot of stuff made now is for an androgynous figure, and it doesn't look good on me. I have always sort of elaborated with my dance clothes. I used to live in my dance clothes, my tights and leotards, but I always personalized them. I'd rip them all up and make sure the runs got really big and had a pattern to them. I started wearing bows in my hair because one day when my hair was long, I couldn't find anything to tie it back. So I took an old pair of tights...
...enough Southern spice and authenticity to keep the film original and diverting. Rudolph has captured a convincingly real sense of the offstage lives, complete with amiable wild-man behavior, recording session, groupies, tour bus talk, and deal-making-and breaking. And the image of a corrupt dise jockey (Rip Torn) who insists. "Payola isn't dead down here--it's not even sick" is candidly refreshing. Although the music segments in the film do not match Nelson's or Kristofferson's "real life" shows, they do impart a pleasant, down-home charge of energy...
Every year it's the same thing, the same annoying symptoms. I know that the fever has hit when I get that first urge to rip my normally rather inoffensive down coat into shreds. Then there are those mornings when I stand despondent in front of my closet for hours, yearning to grab a pair of shorts, but knowing that 45 degree really merits corduryos. Spring fever even affects my literary sensibilities making me leap with murderous intent toward anyone who darea to mention T.S. Ehat and April in one breath...