A blonde girl wearing a man's shirt but in all other visible respects unmanly to the point of outright effeminacy.
Kingsley AmisIt scored right away with me by being the smooth, fine-grained sort, not the coarse flaky, dry-on-the-outside rubbish full of chunds of gut and gristle to testify to its authenticity.
Kingsley AmisWork was like cats were supposed to be: if you disliked and feared it and tried to keep out if its way, it knew at once and sought you out and jumped on your lap and climbed all over you to show how much it loved you. Please God, he thought, don't let me die in harness.
Kingsley Amis