Word: smells
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...people who live just over the hills in the town of Casmalia. A little more than a year ago, it seems, fumes started drifting down over the town. Jim Postiff has lived in Casmalia for 20 years, and the odor was new to him. "The first few times we smelled it," he remembers, "we called the fire department. We didn't know what it was." It is a strange, foul odor, not unlike the stench from a sodden box of cat litter. It reminds many of the women of home-permanent solution. Karen Wickham, who teaches at the town...
Boynton is also living alone, but his cat, Derek Bok (just Derek, for short) has found a happier home, for both cat and man. Says Boynton, Derek--and her first litter of kittens--have taken up permanent residence away from Harvard at a friend's home, "because of the smell and the fact that cats aren't meant to be stuck indoors...
Tipper Gore can do something you can't. She can quote the loopy lyrics of a rather recherche song by W.A.S.P.: "I got pictures of naked ladies lying on my bed/ I whiff the smell of a sweet convulsion/ Thoughts are sweating inside my head/ . . . I start to howl in heat/ I . . ." and this next word presents a problem. How to handle propriety and make her point at the same time? Spelling is the answer. She pronounces each of the four letters, then finishes, ". . . like a beast...
...trap for a vicious kidnaper. In the climactic sequence, the cops race to defuse a bomb that has been wired to Trudy, the detective who has served as bait. After a narrow escape, the culprit is revealed to be a police lieutenant gone bad. "I can smell 'em but I can't understand 'em," says a federal agent involved in the case, as Frey's lyrics chime in: "It's the lure of easy money/ It's got a very strong appeal/ It's a losin' proposition . . ." In a subtle and moving final shot, the agent drifts...
...some of the most entertaining personals. Many of them are suffused with a soft-focus romanticism. Firelight plays over the fantasy. Everyone seems amazingly successful. The columns are populated by Ph.D.s. Sometimes one encounters a millionaire. Occasionally a satirical wit breaks the monotony: "I am DWM, wino, no teeth, smell bad, age 40--look 75. Live in good cardboard box in low- traffic alley. You are under 25, tall, sophisticated, beautiful, talented, financially secure, and want more out of life. Come fly with...