Word: swears
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...solid sense of inadequacy. No writer should be without it. Bombeck's brings her back to the typewriter, twitchy with remorse for the unspeakable sin of not measuring up, after only a few days of vacation. She writhes, and writes, and makes a rare sort of contact. "I swear to you, I don't write fiction," she says. Bill Bombeck and their endlessly libeled children swear she does. No matter; when the jokes splat on the page like strained spinach flung by somebody's centrifugal suburban baby, they are true to life. Bombeck's mail shows...
...nose today with Carey Allen's assistance. They tried shaving a couple of months ago. Between the school's Halloween carnival (chairmanship, of course), a pumpkin pie in the oven and the twins, here is a very big thank you. I am selfish, I certainly swear, and we sure laugh a lot!" -By John Skow. Reported by William McWhirter/Phoenix
...love ice cream? Well, as they've probably told you, you've come to the right place. The only problem is choosing the richest, the creamiest, and the most exotic, not to mention toppings. Most people have a favorite they'll swear by, but there are as many opinions as there are varieties of chocolate and vanilla. Forget the purist instinct, shed your inhibitions, let your imagination run wild...
Unless, as in the old days, you would like a story. This is a true one (I can swear to it), about a father and a son in a playground twelve years ago, in the spring, around noon. The boy was five. He had a basketball, which he dribbled off his toes half the time, and which he kept shooting at the hoop-underhand, both hands, straining to reach the rim. The father sat on a bench and watched. The boy kept at it. Then some bigger boys sauntered over, snatched the ball away and shot around, leaving the five...
When the only patron with politically lib eral sympathies begins to orate, the bar tender-proprietor warns: "You start talkin' about niggers and America in here tonight, I swear you won't get another drink till winter. You understand?" Such moments surpass the contrivances of plot; surprise fades in the glare of recognition...