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A thin Indian man with not much hair sits alone on a bare floor, wearing nothing but a loincloth and a pair of cheap spectacles, studying the clutch of handwritten notes in his hand. The black-and-white photograph takes up a full page in the newspaper.
“What if we offered a prayer for the soul of bin Laden?” The question was tossed into the meeting of the February 20 Movement like a hand grenade.
I still have a hangover from The Hangover Part II.
“Every white man knows his time is up,” snapped the frail-looking Negro in the embroidered pillbox to 5,500 Negroes packed into Manhattan's St. Nicholas Arena one hot afternoon last week
There are few men in the world who haven’t muttered a quiet word of thanks to the anonymous man who invented the name tag, that “Hello, my name is” accessory that can be such a lifesaver at cocktail parties. It’s not certain, of course, that a man invented it, but the odds are good, since so many males — far more than females — would be helpless without it
Last week a nervous little man grinned his twisted grin in the grounds of White Pine Camp.
If it’s the first weekend in May, it must be Marvel superhero time. Spider-Man and its two sequels, plus both Iron Man movies and the Wolverine prequel, have all kick-started the summer movie season in burly style.
For almost six years, nearly every man, woman & child who wanted a job had a job. Last week for the first time since the early days of the war, the U.S.
The brown-skinned man with the golden horn pursed his scarred lips, blew a short stream of incredibly high, shining notes and then carefully laid the trumpet down.
My iPad arrived at 10:30 a.m. E.T.