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Word: vag (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
Dates: during 1930-1939
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Usage:

...sorry," she said. "You reminded me so much of a body named Vag, an old friend of mine. I've been looking forward to meeting him again His cronies down on the river bank haven't seen hum this year, but they though he might be up here. That's why I breezed...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 3/25/1938 | See Source »

...well," bitterly reflected the Vag, "at this rate I might just as well let the malignant machine have its own way. It can't keep it up indefinitely and I suppose that I can stand it for a second or so longer." Finding such trains of thought too wearisome for a mere ten o'clock on a Holiday Morning, the Vag, too lazy to get worried about his missing left arm, turned over, pulled the warm quilt over his head, and went back to sleep as quickly as possible...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 11/26/1937 | See Source »

...absolutely no work whatsoever. The professor had been noticing his absences of late, so that would make it doubly hard to get an extension. Yes, there was no doubt about it, he must get up. Screwing up his courage, and valiantly summoning what little strength he had left, the Vag threw off his bed covers, and then fell back onto the mattress overcome by the exertion...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 11/26/1937 | See Source »

...long could he remain in naught but pyjamas, as the damp, cutting winds of Cambridge's marshes blew icy little gusts through the half open window, and set his teeth achattering, and the gooseflesh arising. Oozing out of bed, the Vag pried open both eyelids, put his left foot into his right slipper, and his right foot into his left slipper, and stumbled off to the shower...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 11/26/1937 | See Source »

...water felt deliciously soothing to his jangled nerves and tired head, as it cascaded in merry little rivulets off his tousled locks. Perhaps it wasn't such a bad life after all. Dreamily musing and mulling these ideas over in his mind, the Vag reached for a piece of soap, and then began to lather himself. Ah, but maybe he hadn't recovered from last night's revelry as much as he had thought! The soap refused to glide smoothly over his skin, and his epidermic sensory nerves did not react properly to the massaging motion of the palmolive cake...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: The Vagabond | 11/26/1937 | See Source »

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