Word: dachshunds
(lookup in dictionary)
(lookup stats)
Dates: during 1970-1979
Sort By: most recent first
(reverse)
...sell cars. I don't see retailers screaming about too many crowds in their stores. What is overheated are interest rates, and the Feds, the biggest borrowers in the country, are the most affected. I am going to try the Fed's solution on my slightly overweight dachshund, overfeeding her to get her to stop eating. I only hope she doesn't get sick...
...refreshing exception. Recent Yale Graduate Jacob Epstein set his low-key whimsy at fictitious Beacham University, a liberal arts college with a hundred-year tradition of the second-rate. Its off-centerpiece, Billy Williams, literally starts off on the wrong foot by stepping on the college master's dachshund at a cocktail party. He writes a term paper on the Iliad titled "The Shoes of the Greeks," falls for a coed named Zizi Zanzibar and takes Chinese so he can know "something hardly anyone else knew, except for several hundred million Chinese people." Woody Allen would recognize the type...
...surprise. One of Lowe's best tunes, Marie Provost, sounds like an innocuous remembrance of a faded silent-screen star until the first chorus comes up. Then the sweet little ditty becomes a carbolic valentine to an actress who died destitute in a cheap hotel and whose pet dachshund dined on her undiscovered remains. "She was a winner," Lowe sings, "then she became the doggie's dinner." Lowe has also turned out a jumpy, ironic paean to the Bay City Rollers, and one of Edmunds' best numbers, written with Lowe, is an unabashed celebration of healthy hedonism...
...away more booze than a commissar at a convention. "What I remember first about Slava," says Seiji Ozawa, "is lots of drinking. He taught me how to drink fantastic amounts. After one night with him, the next day is gone." His constant companion is a pocket-size, wire-haired dachshund named Puks. Rostropovich has taught Puks to leap on the piano bench and bang away at the keyboard with his front paws. Friends observe that what is remarkable is not that Puks can play so well, but that he can play...
Pacino nearly holds the film together. His brown eyes are great pools of Italian soul (though he's supposed to be Polish), and his mournful dachshund face looks scared as he explodes into frenzied wisecracking when his plans crumble. Pacino has some of Woody Allen's earnest ineptitude: raiding the cash registers, he tries to burn the receipts in a compulsive fit and causes a wastebasket fire that attracts passerbys. "I'm a Catholic, I don't want to hurt anybody, ya understand?" he screams in a panic, upsetting a potted fern. Instead of getting out fast, he dawdles...