Word: shotgunful
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...very profound. The moments of genuine educational value were few and far between. Sure, you learned a few things—perhaps, in your case, they were intermediate Sanskrit, the wisdom of not leaving your laptop unguarded in Lamont and the knowledge that it is possible, albeit painful, to shotgun a beer with your toes. But these jewels of enrichment were connected by miles and miles of paper clip-chain crap. “Joe Millionaire” taught you nothing of value. The vegetarian meatball tragedies taught you nothing of value. Social Analysis 10: “Principles...
...hours later we were on the road, packed into the Amtrak, 16 in the back, with a crew of three in front to drive and act as shotgun. We reached the Iraq-Kuwait border very quickly, though most of us could not see much. One of the Marines shouted up to Lance Corporal Tyrell Joyner, 19, who was posted up top, "How does Iraq look?" Joyner shouted back, "Like Nevada! There's sagebrush and stuff...
Forget American Idol. Mash-ups, as these musical shotgun marriages are known, are the real road to success for today's harmonically challenged pop wannabes. The expertise required would make Beethoven blush. If you have ever listened to a mash-up and thought, I could do that, you're absolutely right. The necessary equipment: a PC, your CD collection and a pair of ears. No cash required, at least not until you're ready to unleash your motley mix upon an unsuspecting world...
DIED. BERNARD LOISEAU, 52, celebrated French chef whose La C?te d'Or restaurant, recipient of three stars from the Michelin guide, was a pilgrimage site for gastronomes the world over; from a self-inflicted shotgun wound; in Saulieu, France. Late last month, La C?te d'Or was downgraded by rival food bible Gault-Millau, which gave it a 17-out-of-20 score, slipping from its previous 19. The only chef in the world to have a public company, Loiseau rose to fame as a pioneer of nouvelle cuisine and operated three other eateries in Paris. His death sparked criticism...
...partially paralyzed when he fell from his roof. We drove to his stand: a square of plywood on the ground at the edge of the woods, overlooking a meadow. The volunteers helped Vito out of the truck, trundled his wheelchair over the leaves to the stand, gave him his shotgun, and said, “See you half an hour after sunset.” Then we drove half a mile away to wait and listen...