Word: buxomly
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...Interest. The son of a carabiniere sergeant, Giambattista Giuffrè, now a bald, bouncy 56, began as a bank clerk and simple family man. Then he branched out. He took a mistress, buxom Rina Bianchini, setting up her cuckolded husband in the haberdashery business. Two years ago, when the husband killed himself, Giuffrè married Rina. During the years he lived in sin with her, Giuffrè served as lay administrator of several Franciscan monasteries. At World War II's end, when money began to flow in Italy again, Bank Clerk Giuffrè set out to go the banks...
...afternoon a cluster of Communist officials turned up at the monastery and started ransacking it. When a female clerk tried to phone her superiors, a buxom Anna Pauker type snatched the phone out of her hands and tore it from the wall. The Communists did not stop to examine their loot: papers and mimeograph machines were dumped helter-skelter into sacks. Soon an angry crowd of pilgrims formed outside the building, and one official nervously summoned the police. Police arrived armed with gas masks and swinging truncheons...
Family Party. Resplendent in white from the peak of his fedora to the toes of his buckskin shoes, Marshal Tito was at dockside to pump Colonel Nasser's hand. Handsome Mme. Tito, buxom in blue silk, embraced Nasser's wife. Bands and cannon boomed. Then, past an honor guard on a street festooned with flowers and the flags of the Federal People's Republic of Yugoslavia and the United Arab Republic, the two Presidents rode in an open Rolls-Royce, followed by their wives in a yellow Cadillac convertible, to the presidential guest house, the cliffside Villa...
Still he continued to stare--very rude, he reminded himself--at this girl. Young, buxom, obviously in perfect physical condition, soft-spoken (he extrapolated on this point), but with ankles a bit too thick and hands a bit too strong...
Unfortunately, there is also another film at the Ken-more. It plods along in color, wasting one or two good actors and proudly showing off a disastrously untalented buxom blonde. The director seems confident that anything to do with a pet alligator in England is uproarious, and that the perfect ending for a film is a car filled by boy, girl, boy alligator, girl alligator, and nauseating love song, wafting along the long driveway of a gigantic mansion. It is embarrassing...