Word: wasã
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...Listen,” Andrew said a few minutes later, breaking the silence. “Do you hear that?” A deep country twang rattled from an overhead speaker. It was Toby Keith’s “As Good As I Once Was??—and it was, apparently, Matt and Andrew’s absolute favorite. In the song, Keith faces a series of demanding challenges. For instance, twin sisters named Betty Sue and Bobby Jo ask him to join them in a threesome. “My body says...
...singer was leaning over his microphone. “This one is for the kid in the marijuana-smoking section in the back,” he said, and then he did it. “I ain’t as good as I once was?? But there was a time, back in my prime, when I could re-ally lay it down...” Andrew and I looked desperately for Matt. Thankfully, he had run from the bathroom just in time, pumping his hands high in the air. So what if the singer had misinterpreted...
...over, Matt and Andrew were off the road—and back online. Browsing Google, they learned the full scope of Toby Keith’s repertoire. But when Matt talked to his parents about the last eight weeks, he mentioned “As Good As I Once Was?? anyway and even downloaded the song for them to hear. So he and Toby Keith had some ideological differences; so what...
...supposed conspiracy came to light in the wake of a series of fires that destroyed several buildings, including the governor’s mansion. Even in a city of wooden houses that was??both literally and figuratively—a tinderbox, the number and frequency of the blazes sparked anxiety. And then a slave was caught running from the scene of one fire, and wary New Yorkers–who read all about slave revolts in the Caribbean and South Carolina–began to cry, “The Negroes are rising!” Blacks...
...imposter is my niece, Morgan. We share a first and last name, as well as some unsettling physical similarities. And our exchange took place in what was??for 18 glorious years—my bedroom. The room and its inhabitant, however, are currently unrecognizable. As I stood surveying the damage, I realized it was total destruction, no trace of the room’s real occupant left among the debris. My clichéd Einstein posters were replaced with haphazardly-hung drawings and finger-paintings. My trophies were relegated to “storage” upstairs...