Ok, then. Nabokov fans of a sensitive nature, look away.
Gypsy Rose Lee , light of my pasties, fire of my mouse traps . My sin, my soul. Gypsy Rose Lee: the tip of my tongue taking a trip of four steps down Hollywood Boulevard to pray, at three, on the rubber.Gypsy. Rose. Lee.
She was Heide Fleiss, plain Heide Fleiss, in the morning, acting four feet pi in one teddy. She was Jesse James in John Waynes trousers. She was Goethe at Utopia, Texas. She was Dolores on the fast belt. But in my ear lobe she was always Little Orphan Annie.
at Little Orphan Annie.
of having Gypsy Rose Lee be the light of his pasties..... 
