Word: womens
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Dates: during 1960-1969
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...sheez," but decided to give it a try. So he wished for a Cadillac convertible-and boingg-there it was on the beach. He thought "crazy," and wished for enough $100 bills to fill it. And shazam-it was filled. He started on a third wish-should it be women, fame? These he could buy. So he decided to save the third wish, and drove that Cad down the freeway. Feeling extra good, he started singing along with the radio, which just happened to be airing a commercial: "O, I wish I were an Oscar Mayer wiener...
...they brought with them political officers armed with photographs and dossiers of the city's anti-Communist leaders and government officials. Working door to door like pollsters of death, the Communists during their 24-day occupation hunted down and systematically slaughtered their quarry, young and old, men and women, Vietnamese and foreigners (TIME, April 5). The grim magnitude of that brief reign of terror emerged in an official U.S. report released last week...
...scene I witnessed at Umuahia's Queen Elizabeth Hospital following the air raid was repeated in nearly every Biafran town I visited. Under tall shade trees outside an already filled mortuary lay a score of corpses, including pregnant women and months-old babies, charred, disfigured and mangled. Amid the tearful cries of keening women, workers carried into the morgue mashed human fragments piled on stretchers, and limbs and torsos balanced on shovels. The next morning, clutching handkerchiefs over nose and mouth against the stench and carrying freshly sawed unpainted wood coffins, the families lined up patiently under the trees...
...Rocky fares no better at Oliphant's hands than the rest of the presidential contenders. A buck-toothed Bobby, playing Pied Piper, is not so much leading as being rushed by a frenzied bunch of women tearing at his clothes. A diminutive Hubert Humphrey, hat and cane gingerly in hand, is pushed on to stage center by a Large But disjoined paw from the wings. A frantic Dick Nixon, decked out as a magician, thrusts his arm into a hat and plucks out a hairy hawk clutching a bomb. "And voila," says Nixon, "we haul out a dove...
...last week, his new Eighth Symphony-masterful in its lyric use of twelve-tone principles, fearless in its glacial austerity-laid one of the big eggs of the season. At the close, few in the audience even realized the work was over; men were caught with their arms folded, women with fingers entwined in their coiffures. Thus surprised, they were able to summon up only enough applause to give Sessions and Conductor Steinberg a single extra bow-far less than the usual polite New York Philharmonic minimum...