Word: toweled
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...Shush, Baby." Instead of an ego-massaging entourage of yesmen, the old ham had only his personal valet, Lorenzo Chestnut, by his side. In Chestnut's hands were the familiar Berle off-screen props: a soiled towel for mopping the star, a glass of water, a fistful of Dunhill's Larranaga cigars with big white billing on the cellophane: "SPECIALLY SELECTED FOR MILTON BERLE." Said Lorenzo: "I keep one lit for him when he comes off." As Berle waited glumly for his cue, he scowled at a monitor and frazzled the seven-in. Larranaga. "Shush, baby, shush...
...what it is today: I) men are such babies; 2) women know best; 3) children are cute; 4) marriage is the continuation of childhood by other means; 5) home is where the hurt is, and the most practical thing a woman can put in her trousseau is a crying towel; 6) love makes up for everything, even for not helping with the dishes; 7) death does not really make any difference if two people truly love each other-a competent woman can manage a man from the grave almost as well as she can from the breakfast table...
...tissues were swollen, the duct at first carried no saliva. But when Dougherty heard and smelled the lunch wagon, the flow was copious. Says Dougherty, a former railroad freight handler who has been unable to work for five years: "My eye watered so much I had to put a towel on my lap. But when the watering stopped, I could see the food." From having been able to distinguish only light from dark, Dougherty developed 20/200 vision-enough for him to travel alone to the hospital last week for a checkup. His vision is expected to improve for six months...
...manage the ludicrous war dance he likes to use to "unlazy his legs," Tommy kept coming back to tag his tormentor with occasional punches. After ten rounds, Tommy's manager, Lippy Breidbart, a man with a high threshold for someone else's pain, tossed in the towel to give Machen...
Mathieu was too engrossed to hear. He banged the can vas with a towel soaked in yellow paint, kneaded flake-white pigment into snowballs, and pitched them at the dripping oil, slapped on more paint with rapier-quick strokes, seized handfuls of paint tubes and leaped up and down the length of the battlefield. At the peak of his fury, he was ejecting tubes over his shoulder with the cyclic action of a machine gun, until he finally slowed down, devoted the last 20 minutes to adding only a touch of paint here and there. Total elapsed time: no minutes...