Barbie had beautifully long legs and a naturally long stride. His natural pace seemed to be hers as well. Finally, it was almost as if they shared a b...ain. Whenever he looked at her, he found that she’d simultaneously turned to look at him.Then, to her surprise — and to his — he said softly, “Thank you, Barbie.”“For what could you possibly be thanking me?” she asked, genuinely puzzled.“I really don’t know,” he replied, thoroughly confused. “But thank you ... for being you.”Barbara frowned in. "Well, yes and no," he replied. "At this age, the score of the game doesn't really matter to these kids. The parents care more about wins and losses than the kids do, I'm afraid. All the boys know is they're out there on the field, running and having a good time. A goal is just that: a goal to aim for. Scoring gives them a good feeling right then at the time, but by the time they restart the game afterwards, they've practically forgotten about it. In a couple of years, it might start to matter. Today representationalart is the province of the pre-Raphaelites andsuper-realists like yourself.? The doorburst open. A man with expansive sideburns and wild eyes swept in. ?It isintolerable, intolerable!? he exclaimed. Moretrouble, Janine thought. What brings Rossetti here? ?She hasgone. It is the work of the modernists, I am sure. They know I cannot workwithout my model.? ?Your model?? ?Lizzie. My model and my muse. I left her only for a moment. I ampainting her as Guinevere.? The. The way your mind works.”“I guess I don’t.”Rhonda sighed. “Let’s get through this. What just happened and what it means.”“It doesn’t have to... , “ Bob started.“Did you like it?” Rhonda asked.“Weirdly yes.”“What makes you averse to women?” Theresa asked him.“To be blunt, pussy. The way it looks and the way it smells. But maybe I’ve become acclimated to Rhonda’s smell when she’s...”“Dripping wet?” Rhonda offered.“More like pouring wet,” Theresa giggled.“I guess I’ve become acclimated to your.