Sunday, February 1, 2009

Let's Just Do Women in Their Thirties for No Special Reason.

Running out of gimmicks.






Holding back the fury of Hurricane Fred with only her boobs. I know I feel safer.




You lost, honey. Getting in the same pose as the last lady did not help your case.




I love the way she's looking at those flowers, with a combination of slight amusement and deep unease. Like the flowers just made a racist joke.




I know she really wants us to look at her breasts but her forehead is the size of a luxury sedan.




Why is her tiny picture sideways? I already have to squint; don't make me lean.




"... And THIS is my hovel!"




I know she's trying to look sultry, but she just looks like she fell. And that bra strap's really cutting into that shoulder fat, isn't it? Can't be comfortable. Of course, neither is crawling around on the floor.

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