Armand, is it really her, Sasha Velour, in the very flesh? Where are you, my dear? { he is obsessed up to the shine on the bald of her head, he couldn't miss her recognition for any reason. }
That is, at least, what her New World, glimmering sign said outside the doors. She's remarkably humble for labeling herself mid-performance, otherwise.
I am in another part of New York, Ambrose, but I could be back in your apartment in moments. Or perhaps you could join me in nearly as short a time?
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Armand, is it really her, Sasha Velour, in the very flesh? Where are you, my dear? { he is obsessed up to the shine on the bald of her head, he couldn't miss her recognition for any reason. }
no subject
I am in another part of New York, Ambrose, but I could be back in your apartment in moments. Or perhaps you could join me in nearly as short a time?