Word: sweets
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Dates: during 2000-2009
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...desperate measure for desperate times, and for a while succeeded in propping up the social lives of hundreds of undergraduates. Thanks to UC funding, a nervous freshman could show up to a sweatbox in Mather, guzzle a Coke and vodka cocktail, and grind their frustrations away on the sweet shanks of an upperclass flooze. Fun for Harvard upperclassmen—fun for Harvard underclassmen’s older brother—appears infirm but reasonably healthy, but sources within University Hall say it’s just a matter of time before he gets offed. “The people...
...even at hotel restaurants that remain open during the period. (Some five-star hotels in a couple of countries have a single bar open offering alcoholic drinks to foreigners only.) Most of the restaurant business is taken over by cafes that offer the post-Iftar shisha (hookah pipes) and sweet drinks like hibiscus and tamarind juices...
...unfounded. The French understand hooks and love songs that only 12-year-old girls can admit to liking in America, which made Paris completely liberating. I sang “Gangsta’s Paradise” with no irony; I discussed the merits of “The Sweet Escape” in French; I kind of liked a Mika song for about two minutes.I was reunited with television for my last week in Paris, and I spent a lot of time watching MTV France—which, shockingly, actually played videos. Paris had destroyed my pretensions...
...tightwire flow over a beautiful Motown sample, and you remember that Outkast is very, very good. Then the drums kick in and the track turns into boilerplate, albeit well-executed, Southern rap, and you remember that this isn’t actually an Outkast song. The cognitive dissonance between sweet music and rough lyrics in the last three quarters is mildly disturbing, but start the song over and everything’s alright again. Grade: B Kanye West – “Stronger” Even though the song it samples is only three years old; even though...
...from a mental ulcer. The Crimson’s books editor hates Henry James. I believe his exact statement to me, while discussing the venerable author, was “Ew.” I admit, the prose style is a little dusty, and James certainly takes his sweet time unspooling his stories. But I had an appetite, and he just hit the spot. My spring academic schedule was the intellectual equivalent of a triple-shot espresso. I took my first timid sips of philosophy and modern literature, and by the end of the semester I was spending entire Saturdays...