Life — August 23, 1928 — page 26: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

LIFE i “Henry, that makes me think; we must get a new floor lamp in Paris.” PAGING EMILY Ar the large débutante parties of today, one of the most embarrassing questions of social precedence is who shall pass out rst. The Modern Vamp According to Popular Songs Sue's a scandalous vamp—a love makin’ champ—Oh, what that baby can do... . . She’s the most heartbreakin’est, shimmy shakin’est that the world ever knew. ..+.She’s a gal that’s nobody’s fool, got a kiss like the kick of a mule.....It’s a new kind of kiss, full of bliss, couldn’t miss—with a new kind of hug like a bug in a rug.....She’s a new kind of girl with a new kind of love—just see—a new kind of this and a new kind of that —oh, geec—when you kiss her she cries for more, and she sure knows what she’s cryin’ for.....Though leather is tough her heart is tougher—she’s the kind of a gal likes to see men suffer—to tease 'em, to thrill em, to torture, to kill ‘em, is her delight, they say—somcone saw her at the seashore with a great big pan, there she was a-pourin’ water on a drowning man. ....She's a knockout, she’s regal, her beauty’s illegal—a look at this vision will cause a collision.....She’s got the kind of lovin’ that holds *em—big black eyes and she rolls ’em—hot lips, that are pips, and no more conscience than a snake has hips.....She’s got a pretty form and she shows it—she’s sure some gal and she knows it—what pep—does she step?— Joe Humpnries ANNouNces A CHAMPION’s ENGAGEMENT that’s what she don’t do nothin’ es excep’.....And when she struts her feathers and plumes, the porters dro their mops and their brooms—why, old man Jones, who is crippled and bent, just sold his crutches to pay her rent... . .She’s never tired, never shot, never cold, always hot—why, she knows more than you've forgot.....She’s just that —_ red-hot mamma of mi-hine, I said of mine. Vincent Clark Odell, Not Exactly Guilty I er a guy in Athens, Greece, Another in Taormina, The first one knew my cousin's niece, The second knew Aunt Lena; I met a chap atop the Alps Who'd worked for Uncle Saul— They all thought it killing and started in shrilling, “The world's a small place after all!" My great-aunt’s stepson’s college chum T met in Guatemala; In Spain I met a sap named Blum I'd known in Walla Walla; I met a chap on London Bridge Who told me in a drawl, “Believe it or no, sir, my brother's your grocer— The world’s a small place after all!” I'm wanted for assault in Greece (You ought to see my billing!); I'm fleeing, too, the Swiss police, This time I'm sought for killing TI bet that if I'm caught in Spain, Or nabbed along Pall Mall, The cop will say, “Matey, I know your Aunt Katie— The world’s a small place after all!” Howard S. Benedict. First Night “I Never miss an opening performance.” “Nor I. The first night is always the best.” “Sure! It’s the only time the stars do their best because they know all the critics are out front.” “Yes—and they say that a great actor only creates a great part once, and after that he only goes through the motions.” “Yeah—the first night is the only time you really get your money's worth.” “You're right. What did your scat set you back?” “Oh, I'm a friend of the guy who's press-agenting this show. I got in on 2 ass.”” “So did I.” H.L. comicbooks.com