Word: scooped
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Dates: during 1980-1989
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...Iranian navy and plan to stock it with cold kegs of beer. Then, when we spot a warship, we'll cruise right in front of it and drop these kegs off the stern. The sailors on the warship will then radio us their Mastercard or Visa numbers and scoop up the kegs. It's sure to be a moneymaker...
When the Chicago Sun-Times announced a nationwide search to replace Ann Landers last February, Wall Street Journal Reporter Jeffrey Zaslow, 28, decided to get the inside scoop by becoming one of the 12,000 applicants. "I was looking for an angle," he recalls. Zaslow not only got the story, he got the job. Beginning July 1, the paper will feature not one but two successors to the nation's best-known advice columnist, who will continue to write her own column at the rival Chicago Tribune. The other lucky selectee is Diane Crowley, 47, a divorced lawyer with...
...accessible to the humblest . . . book reviewer as I am to my immediate entourage." That is how Lord Copper, proprietor of the London Daily Beast, saw the hierarchy of the press in Evelyn Waugh's Scoop. A half-century later, Charles Simmons may have trouble getting past the lowliest editorial assistant at the New York Times Book Review, where he spent 33 years as an editor. His latest novel, which caused a few clucks when it was excerpted pseudonymously in the Nation and the New Republic, is a farce about office politics at a Manhattan literary magazine...
...taught on university campuses and has its own association of retirees, which holds regular meetings, just like the Rotary Club." He must occasionally ask himself if publication of what he has discovered will harm the national interest. "I have no desire to expose intelligence secrets merely for a scoop," he says. "But I am enthusiastic about baring things that bureaucrats are hiding to protect their own bungling. I have been digging a long time for details about the construction fiasco of the new embassies in Moscow and Washington." Though Van Voorst's involvement in espionage is decades behind...
...each other more frequently, and the accumulation of goop spreads into face and hair. Revelling in the chaotic, carnival atmosphere I put up my sweatshirt hood to accentuate my insanity. This provokes customer comment. Customers never expect a reply. "He must be getting cold (snigger snigger)." My eyes roll, scoop clatters from my hand. "No I'm not. I'm just fucking weird." Nodding cowed agreement, the line moves on. Chuckling quietly, I return to my smooshing...