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Word: utterer (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...penchant for sending out inappropriate e-mails after the sun sets and the keg is tapped. Alcohol has the (un)fortunate effect of amplifying my emotions, filling my outbox with e-mails of love (I pine for you, Nicole), lust (I want you on me, Nicole) and, of course, utter hatred (I will light you on fire, Nicole). And inevitably these e-mails lead to the sheepish apology sent out the next morning (Sorry for threatening to set you on fire, Nicole...

Author: By Jamison A. Hill, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Love it: Google Mail Goggles | 10/15/2008 | See Source »

...doubt it. Even if a violent criminal knows that a tough hate-crimes law exists, wouldn't that knowledge just keep him from saying "Faggot" while he chopped my arm off? I suppose that after the crime, I might take some solace in knowing that the criminal didn't utter that word as he maimed me. But I think I would care a lot more about my arm than about any thoughts crossing the attacker's mind as he committed the crime...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Viewpoint: What's Wrong with the Hate-Crimes Bill | 10/11/2008 | See Source »

...complete and utter failure,” Chalfie said. “It was so disheartening to completely fail that I decided I shouldn’t be in biology...

Author: By June Q. Wu, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Harvard Alumni Win Nobel Prize | 10/9/2008 | See Source »

...life beginning at his own funeral. In “Indignation,” Roth explores, albeit in a few sentences, the most interesting aspect of Marcus’s story—the idea of the naked consciousness revisiting life after the death of the body, in utter solitude. It seems as fitting an oar as any, but Roth has other plans in the end.Marcus’s consciousness is the result of all his life’s past experiences, and Marcus remains defiantly static throughout the novel. His indignation—with his father, with...

Author: By Ryan J. Meehan, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: ‘Indignation’ Incites Anger | 10/3/2008 | See Source »

...looking like bandits, had drawn water out of the cloudy current by hose. They seemed friendly enough, but as our stationary convoy began attracting curious eyes, our bodyguards said it was time to move. "We are in the war," Sami reminded us, his grin a mix of humor and utter seriousness in the rearview mirror. In a second, we were off again, dust flying, as the muffled voice of the lead driver came in over the radios: "Go, go, go! Don't anyone stop!" It may be easier to drive out of Baghdad now, but danger still lurks...

Author: /time Magazine | Title: Postcard From Basra | 10/2/2008 | See Source »

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