A groundling in the TV business I was
happy to sit on top of a
swaying ladder ready to drop
dead leaves on an actress
bereaved in wartime but looked up to meet the
eyes of the naked woman in her window
casually brushing her long brown hair, her
breasts swaying gently with each
languorous sweep, her gaze so
commanding that the squawk of
“Action, Action” from my
walkie-talkie went west as I gawped, a
groundling in her more
urgent play.
Comments
I had to google groundling, Steve. Why the hell do you make it so difficult for Americans? huh? Well, as a penny-stinker, at least you didn’t throw rotten fuit or nuts at her. This one is a little over my Yankee head. :))
Reblogged this on Fridayam's Blog.