Word: swallowable
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...that my crocodile tears fell so fast I thought I needed an eye-viper. It gladdened my hart to see the tears had fallen into the glass. Instantly I addered a mastiff slug of raw animal spirits, with ice-"crocs on the rocks"-thrush snaking my thirst in a swallow. Delicious. Pity I had no horse d'oeuvre. Such a stag party may never be held again. On the otter hand, I wonder wether the savoir-fare of your report could be repeated? Please pardon my chick in asping, but to meat my wish, please: moa, moa! Tiger best...
...business? Certainly the latter, though it was written by a TV actress, Jacqueline Susann, who insists that the book is practically a kinescope of show-business life as she has seen it lived. If so, it would seem that Author Susann has spent most of her time watching people swallow Seconal, slurp Scotch and commit sodomy. Somebody does one or the other on almost every page, and a large crowd has gathered to watch the exhibition. Dolls is firmly established on all bestseller lists, and has been widely acclaimed as the Dirty Book of the Month. It might more accurately...
...they find it in a fortune cookie, they think it's a prediction." In many ways, his message is best conveyed by his pages of elaborate, cursive script, in which the occasional images are understandable while the words are illegible. "Words are like vitamin pills," he explains. "We swallow them and think we have got something valuable inside us. But we don't. When we look at a drawing, we must hunt and invent our own meaning...
...would mean tariffs so low that competition would force its sluggish home industries to become more efficient. Of course, some Austrian firms would perish in the process. "They'd die anyway eventually," shrugs Austrian EEC Envoy Eugen Buresch. As harsh as that prescription sounds, Austria seems willing to swallow it to bolster its economic strength...
...this modest proposal nourishes more intrigues than the Orient Express and incites more violence, including suicide and murder, than a Mafia convention. None of the characters ever fully escape their enormous and restrictive obligations to the story. But for all that, the reader may find himself wistfully trying to swallow Benchley's preposterous tale, if only for the bouquet. Benchley writes with a smooth comic skill that is at least reminiscent of that of his father, the late humorist Robert Benchley, who himself aspired to write serious stuff, but never got around...