Word: sit
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...lined with his books and sports trophies, close enough to the front door so that if Mrs. Dorfman is out, cigars can be enjoyed. There's just enough room for a leather easy chair and ottoman, where Dorfman himself presides, and a big love seat, where two men can sit without accidentally touching. The focal point of the Man Cave, of course, is the high-definition TV, a once state-of-the-art-and now relatively puny-36-in. (91 cm) liquid-crystal-display (lcd) screen. "Want to watch the Michigan game?" I asked him on a recent Saturday morning...
...hard UVA fan, I hate do this, but I’m Crimson now, and drastic times call for some measures that may also be drastic: North Carolina’s standout guard of the mid-80s, Steve Hale, punctured his lung the game before facing rival Duke. While sitting on the bench, the Crazies would taunt him, chanting, “in-Hale, ex-Hale.” Creative and devilish. So devilish.Then, in 1984, Maryland’s Herman Veal was accused of sexually assaulting a fellow student. In the game at Cameron Indoor, the Blue Devil women...
...rise seaside condos are corralled on street corners. Stacks of new drywall stand outside. Just two blocks from the beach, a tall wire fence has been erected around the gas pumps and doorway of Luke's Supermarket and Deli, a 50-year island institution where West Enders could sit out front and munch on barbecue and boudin...
...ERIKA P. PIERSON CONTRIBUTING WRITER “I liked their old stuff better.” Cue the eye roll as hipsters sit drinking their soy lattes at some obscure coffee house, bemoaning the downfall of their favorite little-known band at the hands of the corporate music machine. But is this nostalgia for the good ole days the annoying mark of a pretentious music “connoisseur” or simply the truth? On their fourth album, “Only by the Night,” Kings of Leon have shaved off their scruffy beards...
...they began to stroll away. “True pasta!” he cried, for emphasis. “Wide—and smooth—and long.”* * * * *Frederick had spent the last week reading the work of a famous Russian mystic. He would sit in the library, sunk deep in an armchair, with a book open on his lap. Roxana hovered by his chair or knelt at his feet. Frederick liked absently to stroke her golden hair, and sometimes when the text was especially gripping he would prop his elbow on her convenient, shelf-like...