A lolita sulista

que foi parar ao “índex” , à custa de umas lambidelas de gelados e outras criancices perversas

You told lies to my daddy in order to get me.


– Get you? l ain’t got you yet
– And you ain’t about to either. l don’t want to be with a man who’d make me live without furniture.
– Honey…


You make me think of cotton. No… No fabric or cloth…not even satin or silk…no kind of fibre,not even a cotton fibre…has the absolute delicacy of your skin.


– Should l say thanks, or something?


– Just smile.
You’ve got an attractive smile…And dimples…Oh, yes, you do. Smile, Mrs. Meighan


– Please, don’t touch me,l don’t like to be touched.
Mr. Vacarro…
– Yes?
– l think l’ll go and make us some lemonade.
– Why do you giggle, then?
– Because l’m ticklish.
– Ticklish?
– Don’t be so skittish.


-My head is fuzzy.
– Fuzzy?


Fuzzy and buzzy…
-But you said Archie Lee waited?
-Yes, after the wedding
-For what?
-For me to be ready for marriage
-How long did he have to wait?
-Oh, he’s still waiting


-We had an agreement. l told him that on my 20 th birthday,l’d be ready
– That’s tomorrow


And, will you be ready?


– Well, that all depends
– What on?
– Whether or not the furniture comes back


ls that what they call a Mona Lisa smile you’ve got on your puss?


We’ve got nothing to do,but wait for tomorrow


And see if we’re remembered…


or forgotten