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Word: singsonging (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...there's "no controlling legal authority," and it's a late-night laugh line in Jay Leno's monologue before you can say Buddhist nun. Gore is just so obvious. When laying one on us, he tilts his head, goes all syrupy like an infomercial host, and slows his singsong voice even further (picture a teacher's pet whining Good morning, Miss Jones, and you've captured the Gore cadence...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Stretching the Fabric | 2/14/2000 | See Source »

COULD THIS BE SINGSONG DIPLOMACY...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: People: Dec. 6, 1999 | 12/6/1999 | See Source »

...words "pop music" usually don't bring to mind the most disturbing of images (unless you count Britney Spears). Singsong melodies, plaintive boy-girl vocals, an occasional drum solo and the whine of an organ can't do that much damage. That is, unless they're placed in the hands of two ultra-depressive misfits like the ex-husband and wife duo of Sam Coomes and Janet Weiss, a.k.a. Quasi. The pair opened the evening with a blast of optimism in the form of "Smile," in which Sam and Janet start off with sugary harmonies over a bouncing beat. Then...

Author: By By R. Adam lauridsen, CONTRIBUTING WRITER | Title: Concert Review: Following the Quasi Model | 11/12/1999 | See Source »

...asked her brother Clive to throw a party. Back in Kingston, Jamaica, his hometown, Clive used to watch dance-hall revelers. He loved reggae, Bob Marley and Don Drummond and the Skatalites. He loved the big sound systems the deejays had, the way they'd "toast" in a singsong voice before each song. When he moved to the U.S. at age 13, he used to tear the speakers out of abandoned cars and hook them onto a stereo in his room...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Music: Hip-Hop Nation | 2/8/1999 | See Source »

...being rehabilitated of my dangerous liaison with cleanliness. It's all my mother's fault, I think bitterly as I board the plane to head home for a weekend. "Hi, Bonnie," my mother's singsong voice greets me at the airport. Inescapably, I smile back and hug her, feeling guilty for my transgressions. And somehow, despite my rigorous regimen at school, my closet Obsessive Hygienist still runs free at home...

Author: By Bonnie Tsui, | Title: BrushWorks | 11/26/1997 | See Source »

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