Word: farthest
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Dates: during 2000-2000
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...always fascinate us. Both Clinton and Elvis are poor boys who made good; they're both good boys and bad boys at the same time, both pious with a midnight-rambler side. They're both profound and tacky, both perpetual adolescents. When Elvis was performing, the person in the farthest balcony seat thought Elvis was performing directly for him. Go into a large room of people with Bill Clinton, and it seems like he's talking directly at you. It's a kind of rakish charm on overload. There's a disdain for both Clinton and Presley by the East...
Through repeated design "generations" that the researchers likened to Darwinian evolution, their computer sought the "fittest" offspring--ones that could crawl the farthest in a given time. One creation shuffled along like a crab. Another left markings in the sand with its snakelike contractions. The best design turned out to be a pyramidal-shaped creature that pushed itself along with a shovel-like...
...have a sneaking suspicion that, when I'm old and gray, I'm going to look back on these summers and think about exotic locales and prestigious positions. I bet I'll wonder what would have happened if I'd taken a different job offer or traveled to the farthest reaches of the globe instead of staying close to home. And then I'll settle back into my comfortable chair, glance out the window at the sunset, and heave a contented sigh of relief...
...feel of destiny prickled along her spine. PAMELA ANDERSON had come to Monaco for the animals. Yes, she loved them and despised the way the Monte Carlo Circus Festival treated them. So she protested strongly, vocally, with her PETA allies. Love was the farthest thing from her mind. Tommy Lee was back in jail for parole violation. Their stormy relationship had run its course. But then fate thrust MARCUS SCHENKENBERG, sculpted male supermodel, into the Hotel de Paris room of Dan Mathews, PETA director. Their eyes met...But wait! A terrible chirping! Marcus exploded like a shot to the privy...
Memories of uncompleted college assignments tend to linger. As an addition to the usual ceremonies that surrounded my graduation, I inaugurated an award given to that senior who, counting all courses in all four years, was, as he received his degree, farthest behind in the assigned reading. It was presented to a classmate of mine who had concentrated on courses in the Russian novel and, by my calculations, had not read a total of 356,000 pages. Twenty years later, I happened to pass the winner on the street, and the poor fellow still had a haunted look...