Word: shit
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1980-1989
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...first, he seems fascinated by the Southern notion of kin, families that bind when the shit starts flying. But then he turns to Southern sex, and then Southern drinking, and finally to Southern marriage. The men in this seedy world dominate the women and think nothing of taking a fist to the source of their romantic troubles. They are full of guts and fighting nerve, the leathery types who jumped at the chance to wade through the rice paddies near Da Nang. Watching them at leisure makes them no more appealing...
Letters fill large chunks of Easy Riders. A true classic, reprinted here in its entirely, came from Pete Chambly, Quebec, Canada: "I'm typing this letter because I can't write for shit." A testimony on behalf of children comes from "The Widow," a native of Salisbury, Md. "This is to all you outlaws who think rugrats are a hassle. Kids are the only way to keep our lives free! We've got to teach our babies about love and brotherhood. We've got to make them proud to be scooter people...
...short, Easyriders is consistently accessible. Another passage from the magazine's James Reston, Spider: "I'm about to pay my taxes, folks, so I'll strap another one on ya. The Feds just gave a professor $100,000 to figure out how pigeons remember things. Shit, I've always wanted to know that--haven...
...knowing when, where, whom or why to fight. The brief spell after Vietnam under which American leaders sought to understand why that tragedy occurred and how to prevent it in the future ended quickly enough; today a typical attitude about foreign affairs seems to be, "America has taken enough shit from the world and ought to start flinging some back...
Marty flicked a series of the jet's decks of glowing switches, buttons, meters, clocks, and gyros. He spat into his tin as the jet blew an escalating, piercing whine. "Shit--oh--God--oh--shit," he said, "I jus' luv doin' this." The jet floated toward the runway, gushing Detroit's air in a screeching rumble. "Hold onto your seat boy, or it'll go right up your ass with the rest of the rig," he said with the deep blue lights of the runway shining in his eyes. He drew the throttle back. The lights turned a thinner blue...