Lady Disk jockey

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It is not the intention of the author to shock. He is simply presenting what might be called an involved case history of four passion-torn people who teeter on the brink of irreparable damage to their own souls.

In one respect, Sally Sue’s reprehensible behavior is understandable, for there are few things worse than being deprived of a loved mate when one is not really at fault. There is a natural tendency to form a shell and retreat into it and never come out again.

The Publishers hope that the story of Sally Sue will help many to emerge from their own shells . . . or should we say “hells”?

“And that’s it from Johnny Cash for now, all you out there. Let’s look high in the sky and see that Led Zepplin and hear the caarazy sound IT makes . . . like it’ll break your head, bambini. . . lotsa noise comin’ on, like RIGHT NOW AND WIIIIILLD!”

The long limbed girl with dark hair and enticing high breasted body took a deep breath and wished she could say what she really felt into the mike. She wanted to curse it but couldn’t, because it was her only way of making a decent living. She had long ago managed to completely shut off the horrible sounds that came from the records. If idiots out there in the night wanted to listen to such garbage, she was being paid to keep idiots happy. She continued the spiel, which had been written by some advertising type guy.

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