"Jack Womack - Ambient 06 - Going, Going, Gone" - читать интересную книгу автора (Womack Jack)weaselly Lou glowered like a nine-year-old looking to get
spanked. Blondie sat off in the corner slapping her tambourine and making with the teutonics. I was just starting to settle in for a long decadent night when I heard Trish shouting at Borden. ┬╗New girls in town, must be.┬л ┬╗Tres wild,┬л Borden shouted back. ┬╗Canadian?┬л ┬╗Hardly,┬л Candy said; even though she tried to whisper, her voice always carried. I turned in what had become an unexpect- edly popular direction. That was it, listeners. I saw them, and I was sunk. ┬╗Check the ensembles,┬л Trish told Candy. ┬╗These girls can shop.┬л The little one тАУ five four, near as I could tell тАУ was severely mod, and radiated cuteness. Hair Sassooned, eyes raccooned. The white go-gos were strictly 1967 but I wasnтАЩt going to argue with the Nancy Sinatra look. Her mini kept riding up over the shoreline but that gave her something to do with her hands. Most inviting indeed, but that night it was hard not to savour the lure of the economy size. At first I thought Little ModтАЩs gal Friday was tall as Sterling, maybe six four. Then I realized she was taller. ┬╗WhatтАЩs that on her hip?┬л Borden asked. ┬╗Looks like a whip,┬л Trish said. ┬╗GerardтАЩs understudy?┬л ┬╗Nobody told me,┬л Candy said. Big GirlтАЩs queenly strut distracted the audience and even the front Lou swallowed his lines but recovered nicely and nobody really noticed. For the first time in her life Nico demonstrated a facial expression. I guided my mouth towards charming Miss DarlingтАЩs ear. ┬╗Candy, my brother sister. Is that a him?┬л She shouted into my own receiver. ┬╗Goodness, no. SheтАЩs real.┬л ┬╗Seriously?┬л ┬╗The hands,┬л she said, glancing at her own, frowning. ┬╗Muchas thankas, my angel.┬л Where she wasnтАЩt black, Big Girl was blonde. She drew her crowning glory up in thick golden ropes tied in a topknot. Over her birthday buxotica she wore beatgirl tights, though hers covered arms as well as legs. She hid her hands in fingerless gloves and her stems in boots of shiny shiny leather. No ques- tion she was blessed in the torso department. The plastic shell sheтАЩd squeezed herself into clung to her soft centre like frozen chocolate. Knobs big as desk erasers tipped her rocket launch- ers. Sunnyside up, she was unsinkable, and miraculous to behold, but I favour mine over easy. When Little Mod aimed for the stairs, Big Girl followed and I caught the full rear view in Cinerama. You could stack a weekтАЩs dishes on that shelf. ┬╗My brothers. My sisters,┬л I mumbled, feeling that the win- dow for action was a narrow one indeed. ┬╗The pink rayтАЩs nailed me. Please excuse.┬л |
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