At ten o’clock she was lying on the divan with her boobies in her hands. — Henry Miller, Tropic of Cancer, 1934.
At which time, ſome Boobyes, weary of flight, made our Ship their pearch, an animall ſo ſimple as ſuffers any to take her without feare, as if a ſtupid ſenſe made her careleſſe of danger.
At the end of the conference, they awarded him with a rubber chicken as a booby prize for complaining the loudest.