Word: sippings
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: all
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...area and opening act in the twilight of their set. To the right, surrounded by a cadre of drunken Harvard students, sits, ponderous, the main attraction. From time to time, he disengages from what appears to be a highly involved internal dialectic on whether or not to take another sip of his water, clasps lucky fans by the ears, and repeatedly graces them with his trademark headbutt. The anticipation in the room is almost palpable as he, with great effort, makes his way towards the stage. It is here that our examination of one of contemporary music?...
...Wednesday around the time of evening rush hour never would have known it though. There she was, sitting in front of Au Bu Pain like many other college girls—flanked by three of her girlfriends, catching up on midweek gossip with pauses for the occasional giggle or sip of Diet Coke. The way she focused her round, dark eyes on the girls as they spoke might have made it seem like their individual woes about frigid Harvard boys were the only things running through her mind. But as she sat back for a moment and talked about...
...days are insane,” she said, taking another sip from her white paper cup. She pouted a little, and then sighed. “Today I’m just really tired.” Vaghar then told her friends how she had to get up at 7:30 a.m. just to get to work by 9 a.m. She worked a full day, scooting out of the office right at 5 p.m., so she could land a spot on the 5:05 p.m. train to Harvard Square. She got there just in time to take a little...
...that capitalism is keeping people up late these days,” he said as a segue into his first lecture for the class “History of American Capitalism” (by day, History 1651). He paused and took a sip from a Poland Spring bottle before continuing. “This is really tremendous. I can’t tell you all how wonderful it will be to teach this class to people who actually work, and probably understand capitalism quite a bit already...
...here I sit on my sunny terrace. There's a soda-water fountain and the buzzing of the bees in the cigarette trees, just like in the song. I sit in my pajamas and work the Times crossword and sip peppermint tea and, it being almost Labor Day, I sit and think about work. And then I write a limerick. Of all the useless things a person can do, limerick writing is right up there with golf and fishing...