Word: stopping
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Dates: during 1990-1999
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...shocked yesterday at the news of Schulz' retirement. When I was young, his strip was the first stop on my morning run through the newspaper. I collected the books and watched the specials. In my heart, I will always hold a special place for the Great Pumpkin, especially at this time of year...
...really bad habit of calling the phone numbers I find written on toilet stall walls. I swear I only call Harvard numbers. (I figure these people are pre-screened by the admissions committee). Should I stop? Is this tacky...
...stop there. I'd rather not contemplate the magazine. For me, over-exposure kills the final product and I can never bear to read FM on Thursdays. The glory of an occasionally door-dropped 24-pager dims in the grim light of a Crimson sunrise. I'm saving my FMs to read them next semester...
...every pooh-pooh there's a hip, hip hooray. We're not over ourselves or a magazine devoted to the same. Can't stop eating cookies (Entenmann's) and donuts. We're not over Patrick Ewing who deserves his gigantic salary. We'll never, ever be over Cherry Coke or V8 which is similar to ketchup which we also can't get over. Won't ever forget 4224. Not over Nina Yuen, Junior Mints and other small blessings. Still trying to get over what's hip, what's now, what's on the street. Nail biting and teeth grinding...
...Advocate invited me one afternoon to have lunch at the Signet, and I had never been. So I walk there, and we are having lunch, and I am in this room with these stuffy old men. And I remember something smelling so bad, and I just could not stop thinking, 'What is this horrible smell? What is going on? It smells like crap.' I realized later, outside, after I had hugged my friend goodbye, that on the way there I had stepped in dog shit and I had been sitting there the entire time with poop on my shoes. That...