Word: throating
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...graphic illustration of what the revolt against rape is all about-not only the physical crime of violence, but the attitudes that perpetuate and nurture the crime. What woman-or man-would move when the gun at their head might go off or the knife at their throat might slip...
...rapidly spread through Washington. Speculation grew that some major new Nixon move was imminent. Ominously, House Republican Leader John Rhodes postponed a press conference scheduled for Monday, at which he had been expected to say how he would vote on impeachment. He pleaded the discomfort of a sore throat, which was true. But at home in suburban Maryland, he had received a call from Haig. The chief of staff asked him to delay his news conference. Why? There was "new information," said Haig. "Can you tell me any more about it?" the Congressman inquired. "No," replied the general. "You will...
...jammed and the wine had already begun to flow in the streets. I promptly bought myself a wineskin and some dirt-cheap red wine, and, with a little practice, I developed a proficiency in squirting the juice into my mouth so that it hit the back of my throat. The night came, the music eddied up toward the moon, and there was dancing in the streets, almost as Hemingway had described it. I was drunk, and winding through groups of elated Spaniards, I regretted that I couldn't speak their language...
...father a demonic envoy, Richard stabbed him. By the time Robert Dadd's gory corpse was found in the grass, the young man was on his way to Europe, planning to kill the Emperor of Austria. He was arrested in France, after trying to cut the throat of a stranger in a coach with his "excellent English razor," and shipped back to Britain. Dadd spent the last 40 years of his life in madhouses, dying all but forgotten in Broadmoor in 1886. One of his infrequent visitors wrote that though he was still plagued by "thick-coming horrors...
...what "white lightning" really tastes like, opinions differ. Irvin S. Cobb compared a swig to swallowing a lighted kerosene lamp. A North Carolina moonshiner says simply: "Hits a blamed ugly drink." And then there is Colonel Leland DeVore, whose throat involuntarily contracts whenever he thinks of moonshine: "I hear, as if from far away, the gagging whisper of a long-lost friend whose favorite saying was 'Vile stuff-I wish I had a barrel...