There's a frustrated young man, name of Vic, from a pool of young ladies he's picked, Ingrid Rothwell's her name, with a blonde flowing mane, she's the lass with whom he wants to tick. Ingrid's just as fond of this lad, now he's making advances she's glad, but he runs hot and cold, wants to do more than hold, so she lets him explore and un-clads. No surprise as nature takes its course, with a marriage hastily brought forth, which Vic starts to abhor, lives with Mother-in-Law, and his compass no longer points north.
Great dialogue, great performances, in a perpetually told tale of the ages, where the outcomes invariably reflect the times when the drama takes place, and leave you grateful for the times you live in today - I think it's called progress.
Great dialogue, great performances, in a perpetually told tale of the ages, where the outcomes invariably reflect the times when the drama takes place, and leave you grateful for the times you live in today - I think it's called progress.