Word: rugs
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...Bells Toll. Indoors is a dining room with a broad-beamed oak floor, no rug, and a table placed so strategically that it would take a center fielder's throw ing arm to get a porringer full of Pablum to the wall. The kitchen's casement windows are ornamented with stained glass. On a counter is a Teddy bear in an electric frying pan, and a copy of Meals for Two that hasn't been opened in 15 years...
Someday, when I have enough money, I am going to have a house with a massage room, a steam room, a bar, and a bedroom big enough for two 7075. The floor will be covered with a white rug four inches thick, with a polar-bear skin near the hifi. And the bed, oh, maneroonian, the bed will be adequate for an exhibition match between the Green Bay Packers and the Los Angeles Rams...
...temptation. He writes about animals and nature as well as anyone in the field, and he is never cloying when he describes how Mij toused like a dog with his favorite rubber eclair, lay endlessly on his back juggling anything that came to paw, or hid underneath the rug and then leaped out like a tiger on the first passerby...
...seven pictures ready to be released, two more before the cameras, including Morgan the Pirate, for which he is planning to bury $10,000 under Atlantic beaches and to invite all poor slobs with shovels to hunt the treasure. Drawing on the specialties of an aircraft company and a rug-weaving firm, he will produce a flying carpet that will bombard the world with sultanic adjectives describing Aladdin...
Down went this fighter to the rug. He roared out 'Foul!' The house dick burst in upon him to see the splendid athlete holding his groin, moaning like a busted pipe organ, and refusing to come out for another round." To Fowler's generation of writers, New York was always the Big Town, a drink was spiritus frumenti, and Broadway was the Rue Regret. Reading Skyline with or without spiritus frumenti, one question is bound to arise: Where are the monkey glands of yesteryear...