There greet in silence, as the dead are wont, And sleep in peace.
'That thing,' the mother chuckled juicily at her daughter's clever turn of phrase. That's what you call it a straight-jacket, dearyme. He's a nut-head, the poor poke.
'That thing,'
That's what you call it a straight-jacket, dearyme. He's a nut-head, the poor poke.
For the most part, Hefner's female companions all adhered to the same mold: twentysomething, bosomy and blonde. Well, I guess I know what I like, he once said when asked about his preferences.
Well, I guess I know what I like,
Flay involuntarily propels his gawky body forwards as he hears that his Lordship wants him, but he pulls himself up at the end of his first long step towards the door, and peers even more suspiciously and acidly at the youth in his immaculate black cloth.
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