Word: slappingly
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...become a disturbance. “On this campus, they have the right to regulate anything they want to if it is disturbing the peace,” he says. He adds that LSU’s continuing refusal to ban the flag is “a blatant slap in the face...
Cory Wallia is Bollywood's top makeup artist and a man whose cautionary--and perhaps apocryphal--tales on whitening include the time the mother of a bride insisted he slap on so much white foundation that the young girl somehow turned blue. (The punch line? The mother approved.) He believes the real reason for the fairness craze is more troubling than most care to admit. While no one suspects that Westerners seek tans to change their ethnicity, Indians, he says, are motivated essentially to do just that. "Indians are more racist with other Indians than any American ever was with...
...Houses were allowed to throw parties that lasted past 2 a.m. or have those parties without filing registration forms days in advance, the clubs wouldn’t seem so appealing. The fact of the matter is that many students leave school happy to have the Harvard name to slap on job résumés but look back with mixed feelings on their social experiences.Harvard’s responsibility should be, first and foremost, to the students paying money to attend. It should be our opinions that Harvard cares about. Even from a strictly business standpoint, fostering...
...control. Plus, his daughter has diabetes. Yes, they go there.The fault largely lies in Stuart Beattie’s script, which fails to capture any of the thrill or urban grit of his noir masterpiece “Collateral” or any of the wit and slap-dash charm of his “Pirates of the Caribbean.” The anatomy of the affair fails to intrigue the audience with its bland dialogue and the utter lack of chemistry between Owen and Aniston. Charles picks up Lucinda by setting a $20 bet that he can kiss...
...year, I found a message scrawled across the stall at the Science Center bathroom: "I was raped at the Spee, Spring 2002." While it made me vaguely uncomfortable, the anonymous note didn’t stop me from continuing my weekend routine. Every Friday and Saturday night, I would slap on some eyeliner, shove my feet into stilettos, find my tightest jeans, and head out to Mt. Auburn Street. My freshman clique and I would shiver on the steps while a club member looked us up and down to see if we were hot enough to get in. Inside we?...