blonde

One guy hams it up as Juliet, blonde wig and all, as a crowd gathers, delighted by the impromptu performance.

Blonde kids named Kyle and Zack cheered on Los Doyers while wearing jerseys with “Valenzuela” on the back.

Thousands of platinum-blonde manes brush against bare, perma-tanned backs moist with snow.

For me at least, the singer and the songs on Blonde on Blonde and Highway 61 Revisited are indivisible.

A few were rock songs of roughly the same vintage as Highway 61 or Blonde on Blonde.

Whereat, he stepped to one side, and led upon the stage, a charming blonde who was greeted profusely.

He was a manly young fellow, a sportsman and renowned at cricket, and she was amiable and pretty, a little blonde beauty.

At the invitation of the blonde stenographer at the desk, he squatted on a chair and lighted a cigarette.

An indolent blonde, fond of dancing, but a nonentity from both the moral and the intellectual standpoints.

A stout woman with a muddy blonde complexion splotched with freckles.