Just tickle his neck or feet until his eyes drowsily open.
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Masson's beautiful, drowsily drawn "Benjamin Péret — Automatic Drawing" fluidly depicts the French poet.
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"This story has a lot of turns, mom," said Bennett, drowsily, the other night when we'd stopped reading.
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Did you tune in or pay your own money for a ticket to watch Tomic flounder around drowsily?
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I would stop them every now and then and ask them to drowsily repeat something, and the camera improvised.
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And it makes workers more likely to hurt themselves on the job or on the road while driving drowsily.
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When he finally drifts out, drowsily readjusting the dressing covering the intravenous line in his arm, he doesn't look fine.
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All that luster, which too often in movies suggests polite manners and drowsily safe entertainment, proves to be a seductive, glossy way into something more satisfyingly complicated.
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Both have already put the lie to his drowsily revanchist claim that Golden State, as a "jump-shooting team," could never win a championship; characteristically, that hasn't moved Barkley much.
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Narrated in Italian by actor Toni Servillo and directed by Claudio Poli, the film somewhat drowsily recounts the madness of the Nazi's quest to first sanitize, and then steal the art of Europe.
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Narrated (in Italian) by Italian actor Toni Servillo and directed by Claudio Poli, the film somewhat drowsily recounts the madness of the Nazi's quest to first sanitize and then steal the art of Europe.
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"When We All Fall Asleep, Where Do We Go?" owes a clear debt to Lorde (minimal, hip-hop inflected) and to Lana Del Rey (drowsily narcotic, romanticising darkness), but it also sounds fresh and imaginative.
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Where are those big, wet eyes that drowsily scan the court, half interested in what's going on around him before snapping into engagement at the first vision of an available drive or a defender collapsing in front of him?
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Ben Foster is maybe the most recognizable name in the cast—fans of AMC's Preacher will note that Dominic Cooper and Ruth Negga, both so charismatic on that show, pop up occasionally here before smartly hiding—and he justifies this status by overacting within an inch of his life while still somehow drowsily winking at the camera.
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The Orioles' walk rate, even given their recent success, is a middle-of-the-pack 8.7 percent, which suggests that most of their supposed on-base ability is less ability than luck—the luck that lets a ball floated drowsily into the outfield turn into a hit instead of an out, which happens to be the kind of luck that tends to run out sooner than later.
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Despite coming in under an hour, it's a record that manages to encapsulate a whole world of musical ideas, running the gamut from smart to dumb, and from drowsily narcotic to as explosive as The Rock jumping through a plate glass window—as "Song 2" ending up in Central Intelligence proves, it's the record that took Blur places no-one ever expected them to go to.
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Gradually he opened his eyes and the cat mewed before jumping down and shaking its head drowsily.
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Next to approach are two elderly women the narrator describes as being lower middle class. They are fascinated by the old man's actions, but they cannot determine if he has mental health problems or is simply eccentric. The narrator recounts apparently isolated words and phrases: "he says, she says, I says", "Sugar, flour, kippers, greens". The stouter of the two women becomes detached from the conversation, and drowsily stares at the flowerbed.
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Gwen asks Freda the name of the man who saved her from the fire, to which Freda drowsily replies 'Torchwood', before falling asleep. Gwen returns to the group and Andy offers to sit in with Freda. Gwen explains Freda's story to the others and Jack is still adamant in isolating her as her future knowledge is too dangerous. Ianto remarks that Jack is being hypocritical and that perhaps the future Torchwood has sent Freda to them for their benefit.
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Eventually, they dragged all occupants into the ground-floor hall, where they had gathered dozens of prisoners from all over the building in a mess of blood and excrement. They threw her on top of two other people. They were not moving, and Lena Zuhlke drowsily asked them if they were alive. They did not reply, and she lay there on her back, unable to move her right arm, unable to stop her left arm and her legs twitching, blood seeping out of her head wounds.
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It features some of my favourite lines, and sounds like Master of > Puppets era Metallica. ; Nymphetamine > The title track concerns itself with a love affair so intense, that although > soured and dead, it ignites at the slightest sniff of re-invention. The cool > thing about this song is that it is really a beast of several parts: a > chimera. The main hub of the song is very lovelorn and drowsily melodic and > it is these traits combined with shared female and male vocal passages that > serve to highlight the plight of this, the title track of the album.
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Creation Records had requested My Bloody Valentine to record a track for The Catalogue and coincidentally "right at the same time, Bill Carey, a friend [of the band] who worked in a studio said that anytime [they] wanted to mess around in a studio, [they] could, so [they] went in and made ["Sugar"] up." Originally released as a square 7-inch flexi disc, "Sugar" was later featured as the b-side on the 1992 French pressing of "Only Shallow". A remastered version was released on the compilation album EP's 1988–1991 (2012). Critics have described the song as "a drowsily sweet, raggedly swaying number" and "structurally pitched somewhere in between the sonic excesses of Isn't Anything and experimental passages on Loveless".
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Navigating among the crockery, several cups of tea blocking guests' path swung out of the way before their caterpillar cars drew near to the edge of the table, beyond which were the Mad Hatter and the March Hare — both rendered as monstrously-sized flats donning crazed expressions. Situated in front of a forced-perspective mural offering a glimpse of a stone path leading into the distant woods and an array of hanging paper lanterns, the unhinged duo popped up suddenly to shout, "Move down, move down, move down!" as guests rounded the animated tower of tea cups and began down the other side of the table. One final character, the Dormouse, then lifted his head out of an enormous, flat sugar jar and drowsily commented, "Very very rude indeed..." before guests smashed straight through a tea pot and careened into a black void. Immediately, guests were assaulted by a loud cymbal crash and a series of starburst patterns illuminated via strobe lights.
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