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Word: sweete (lookup in dictionary) (lookup stats)
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...Sweet lord, is there anything more awkward than when a friend hands you some headphones and says you should listen to a “great” song? All Garden State-style? Especially when it’s a damn Bright Eyes song...

Author: NO WRITER ATTRIBUTED | Title: Pop Screen | 9/30/2005 | See Source »

They closed the set out with an old standard from Hopeland, “Untitled #9—Popplagio (Pop Song).” It begins with a sweet, rolling guitar strain, but eventually collapses into cacophonous entropy. I’m not a big fan of the song, but it reminded me of the problem about the womb—eventually, the placenta breaks, and you’re out on your own. Horrifying...

Author: By Abe Riesman, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Sigur Rós, Unborn | 9/30/2005 | See Source »

...Moon,” in which he plays a traveling salesman having an affair with a lonely housewife. The director feels that “in that [film], he did something that you don’t see in most of his other movies: he was very sweet, gentle, tender, compassionate, and of course, sexy, which I knew I needed Tom Stall to have...

Author: By Scoop A. Wasserstein, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: The Dualistic Philosophy of David Cronenberg | 9/30/2005 | See Source »

...Matt had steered them temporarily off course into Winslow, where he’d stood on a street corner as their stereo blasted the Eagles’ “Take it Easy.” Then he asked Andrew to take his picture. Days later, “Sweet Home Alabama” would welcome us to Birmingham. For purposes of cultural immersion, pop radio is often sufficient, in its limited, capitalist way. After all, even the locals listen to Clear Channel. But sometimes, an i-Pod is also useful...

Author: By Elizabeth W. Green, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Eight Weeks in America | 9/29/2005 | See Source »

...typewriters, and once upon a time, reporters would slide into the darkroom to sip a little bourbon. Or so one reporter told me. The aging newsroom displayed its two Pulitzers between the escalators, right where you couldn’t miss them. In the cafeteria, I ate the sweet butter biscuits that ladies pushed to me, saying, “Sugar” or “Miss April,” small names dropped into my hand with my pennies and dimes...

Author: By April H.N. Yee, CRIMSON STAFF WRITER | Title: Where I Was “Miss April” | 9/29/2005 | See Source »

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