Below-the-belt campaign tactic

Usage examples of smear.

Had there been a light in her belly, dim briny light in that pillowing womb, dusk enough to light a page, bacterial smear of light, an amniotic gleam that I could taste, old, deep, wet and warm?

Not much, and dried hard, a deep brownish maroon colour, smeared thinly as if someone had tried to wipe it up.

Violet led the way up the stairs to Veblen Hall and grabbed the doorknob without a thought to the ashy smear she would leave on its polished surface.

Gently Aurora reached up to wipe the smear of blood from his forehead.

The barbie unscrewed the top of it and used her middle finger to smear dabs of brown onto her breasts, making stylized nipples.

For weeks Claude worked hard at a study of some lightermen unloading a cargo of plaster, carrying white sacks on their shoulders, leaving a white pathway behind them, and bepowdered with white themselves, whilst hard by the coal removed from another barge had stained the waterside with a huge inky smear.

There was a woman sitting in a chair, her sideburns and chin smeared with dark golden wax, and there were two beautiful young women lying naked from the waist down, having their bikini lines done.

Now she stood at the head of the stairs, bleary eyed, make-up smeared, hair hanging straggly and uncombed, not looking at all her usual self.

Operation Bughouse, the First Battle of Klendathu in the history books, soon after Buenos Aires was smeared.

Breakfast consisting of bitter black coffee, and jam smeared on butterless stale bread.

Critias, Tempus, and Cime, her cheeks smeared with blood like rouge, a lock of hair hanging down before her eyes.

He held the woman as Cissy smeared some of the oint- ment on the worst of the blisters on her scalp, forehead, ears, and shoulders.

She would smear the liquid froth into careful position, slopping astonishing tones in suggestive patches and scabs, where it coagulated quickly into shape.

There were sad, haggard women tramping by, well dressed, with children that cried and stumbled, their dainty clothes smothered in dust, their weary faces smeared with tears.

He brings out a white index card smeared with red and yellow food and he reads the culling song, his words flat and steady as someone counting out loud.