You can always rely on FirstName BunchOfNumbers to have the worst opinions.

So awe-inspiring was the sight that we spoke only in hushed whispers.

Soon after the arrival of Mrs. Campbell, dinner was announced by Abboye. He came into the drawing room resplendent in his gold-and-white turban. […] His cummerbund matched the turban in gold lines.

Little groups of sailors came swinging along and pushied their way noisily inside the gaudy joints. Sex everywhere: it was slopping over, a neap tide that swept the props from under the city.