Word: ringing
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Tickets in hand, Christina and I battle through the hordes of WWF fans who are waiting in the lobby of the Fleet Center. I stop for a minute to examine my ticket. We're seated in the FIRST ROW?! Ring side seats! This is getting better every minute. My excitement's cut short by an impatient gray-haired woman in a WWFshirt, who tells me to get my ass moving. I obediently pick up the pace. _Ok, now I know Harvard's sissified me--some little old lady is pushing me around...
After navigating through a riotous crowd wearing an obscene amount of WWF paraphernalia, we enter the arena and take our seats. We are about five feet from the edge of the ring. I smile at Christina. She smiles back nervously. The lights go out. Let the ass-kickin' begin...
...better quotes from the newly-released tape recordings of former president Richard M. Nixon during Watergate and reminding us how the more things change, the more they stay the same. Quoting one of Nixon's exchanges with White House counsel John Dean, Schoenstein points out the Clintonian ring to the president's speech. "They'll hang us," Dean says. "It depends what you mean by hang," Nixon replies...
...shingled cottage by the shore. Every morning I get up from my feather bed, putter across my shiny parquet floors and eat breakfast in my sun-filled kitchen as I wait for the chauffeur to swoosh me off to my job--as a bookie for the local crime ring...
...much as I loved my self-indulgent life, I got lonely. I tried to find love with my studly neighbor Joe, but he was a total tease. He would flirt and kiss and eat my home-cooked meals, but I never got the gold ring. I asked him to marry me five times, and he always gave me some lame excuse: either he was too hungry to think straight or he didn't think we talked enough. Since when does a guy want to talk...