Word: steers
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Dates: during 1970-1979
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...liquor stores report that the Cows are a live stock indeed. Heublein's ads show Cow bottles grazing in a green pasture and describe how Malcolm Hereford, a fictitious bull breeder, invented the drink. Concludes Hereford: "A Cow-on-the-rocks is not a bum steer...
...long, ducktails bit the dust. His custom-made pearl-inlaid guitar slipped from his hands And in its place a new electric one he had flown in from Japan. He's a cheeseburger-eatin', abandoned- Sunday-meetin', Brand New Country Star. He rides around in a Lincoln Continental, no steer horns on his car. The recordmen say he's the living end, gonna spin him to the top. He's a hot Roman candle from the Texas panhandle. He can either go country or pop. Yeah, he can either go country...
...that the women are making an effort to get a large cross section of Radcliffe in their club is ignoring the reason they state as their basic need for a club, that is to steer away from the "fractured" nature of college life by providing a haven where girls of common interests can, in the lingo of liberation, unite. For to say they seek a large cross section of Cliffies by individually drawing up lists of twenty candidates for selection--who are they trying to kid? The final list will not represent a cross section of the female student body...
Grant's Chairman Robert Anderson, appointed in 1974 to arrest the chain's decline, had hoped to use the protection of bankruptcy laws to build a "new Grant's" consisting only of the Northeastern stores. They were to sell clothing, household goods and furniture, and steer clear of the high-priced air conditioners, refrigerators and television sets that proved to be the company's Achilles' heel. So confident did Anderson appear at one point that he told one of his managers: "There will be a 1976." But the store's creditors thought differently...
Suddenly the music stops. It is 2 a.m., and out of nowhere materialized uniformed policemen, plaid-jacketed plainclothesmen, and a searchlight the size of a cannon. The disc-jockey abandons his notorious sound system to steer the bright beam over the crowd. The silver-studded dancers break apart like mercury and slither sullenly towards the exit. There is a twenty minute wait for coats;the boy with the orange cape has donned less auspicious clothing and bustles about the cloakroom, calling out numbers, grabbing tickets, rolling his eyes...