Word: shirt
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Like all passionate collectors, pinheads are obsessed. And, they say, misunderstood. Leonard Braun, 65, wears a Barcelona T-shirt and an exoskeleton of pins, including a badge of honor that reads "Pinologist." His wife reckons he's juvenile. "She doesn't understand it, and that's a fundamental problem," says the retired physicist from Los Angeles. "But it's probably better than collecting race cars or women." Still, the absurdity of his passion hasn't escaped him: "At times I've had an out-of-body experience: I've seen this grown man trading pins on the ground like...
...charged prose that leaps 600 pages of fantasy and social history in a single bound, re-creates a New York City subculture bursting with commercial vitality and inspired schlock. The headquarters of Empire Comics is in the 14-story Kramler Building, "faced with stone the color of a stained shirt collar." Sheldon P. Anapol, the "likable and cruel" publisher and novelty peddler, succeeds with a combination of "hard-won cynicism, low overhead, an unstintingly shoddy product line and the American boy's unassuageable hunger for midget radios, X-ray spectacles and joy buzzers...
...know the kids will be all right. These days our younger daughter sports a new T-shirt, courtesy of Grandma, that reads, SOMEDAY A WOMAN WILL BE PRESIDENT! Her big sister trades partisan insults with other sixth graders, who already identify themselves as Republicans or Democrats. And their two-year-old brother has actually been spotted watching C-SPAN. Maybe it's because Dad left the TV on, but hey, it's a start...
...earlier this year. Now Harvey is talking to people in Japan and Europe who are intent on organizing their own festivals. "I'd like to change the f______ world, and I think we've got a good shot at it," he says as a beautiful woman in a tight shirt who calls herself Zen Paradise places an ashtray at his knees. Frederick Law Olmsted never inspired that kind of devotion...
...smell of doughnuts tickled mama bear's nose. They were lying in a culvert, wrapped in a T shirt smothered with molasses. She was hungry. Why not tuck in? As soon as she did, a metal grate slammed shut behind her. She clawed at the cage, to no avail. Trapped in a backyard in Hamburg, N.J., all she could do was hunker down and wait...