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Hot men. Hot situations.
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This isn't right. This isn't even wrong.
~Wolfgang Pauli (1900 - 1958)
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This isn't right. This isn't even wrong.
~Wolfgang Pauli (1900 - 1958)
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Contents of this blog are the viewpoints and choices of the blogger, and are not in any way related to the blogger's employer or its clients. Comments posted on this blog are not necessarily the opinion or viewpoint of the blogger.
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Special Content does not claim credit for any images shown unless otherwise noted. The rights or copyrights to images belong to the respective owner(s). If you own rights to an image and do not wish it to appear here, you may contact this blog.
Contents of this blog are the viewpoints and choices of the blogger, and are not in any way related to the blogger's employer or its clients. Comments posted on this blog are not necessarily the opinion or viewpoint of the blogger.
.
.
.
.
.
.
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3 comments:
And such a frattybaby goddyslot it is! How, dear lord, how do they do it? I don't mean, It; I mean, how do they clarify its genius, its raison d'être, so sublimely? How do they make it so obvious, so urgent, one almost can't look? How do they make you just die, so knock-you-over-with-a-feather blithely, as if their trail of casualties were no concern of theirs?
And the furniture is so utterly tasteful and unassertive.
There's something in this stationary butterfly stroke that galvanizes the tanline connoisseur in us all. But there you are, you see, the whole indented spine of sinusoidal slipperiness is set to slither lineally for laps, the mounded engine molded as the bunched and luscious traps, the spectacle unconscionable except to sporting chaps. So, is this the deal? We gather water in great cisterns of exertion to give flowering to youth, taking care to occupy their reflection?
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