Stewart Mason

“Nightlife is not for sissies, except of course for career sissies; an evening out requires at least a full day of minute preparation. . . . People move to New York to invent themselves, and nightclubs provide a runway for the results. It’s easy to spend twenty hours per day slaving in a Pennsylvania coal mine or threshing some Nebraska oat crop; going out in New York is work.”
― Paul Rudnick, Social Disease

“Venice was luscious. She had real curves and real cleavage. She had a stunning face, set off by a broad, lascivious grin. She had an indefinable hairstyle, a swag of thick blond dazzle that seemed always in motion, falling in her eyes, getting caught in her mouth. Venice spoke in a husky growl, with a deep, filthy laugh.
Venice was no stranger to flirtation; she was practically no stranger to anyone. She smoldered, even at breakfast. Venice—at times literally—enjoyed a love affair with Manhattan.”
― Paul Rudnick, Social Disease

“State your name.”
“Venice Huber.”
“Occupation?”
“Well, it’s hard to say. I don’t model, land of the seventeen bimbos. I don’t act—after all, isn’t an actress just a model who won’t shut up? Let’s say, oh—homemaker. Could you die?”
― Paul Rudnick, Social Disease