For no reason at all, I’m declaring today to be “Sex Day” on this here back porch of mine. Yes, what the hell: the entire Zeitgeist and its acolytes the media seem to have declared every day to be about sex, vid.:
- the exploits of the Kardashian coven
- TV shows featuring naked Dutch Olympians
- memoirs of Australian prostitutes
- reality shows which, it appears, are no more than excuses for the cast to bonk each other promiscuously and have out-of-wedlock babies
- people who have no clue about sex (coffee-splatter warning on this one)
- a dominatrix who appears on a morning TV show as though there’s nothing wrong with that
- celebrity granny with huge tits hosting a homo parade in (where else) Long Beach CA
- people telling their parents, on camera, how they lost their virginity
- a monk watches porn on a bus
- Taylor Swift is bonking some gay-looking English dude prior to breaking up with him, thereby gathering material for her next album
- the usual crowd of Train Smash Women
- etc. ad nauseam.
So why should I not follow this trend for just one day at least?
In any event, it’s got to be more interesting than talking about Nancy Pelosi, Chuck Schumer and those other tools. Oh, and by the way, speaking of tools: No-Class Michelle Obama dresses like a slut when visiting a cathedral in Italy. I know that this last bit has nothing to do with sex per se, but it’s all part of the coarsening of society, innit? More articles and thoughts on sex below… if you can stand it.
“No-Class Michelle Obama dresses like a slut.” A slut and a vain idiot.
I often wondered if she buys her skirts and pants in the Big and Tall Boutique (no mere “Shop” for Moochelle) and her tops in the six-to-eight-year-old section of the Preteen Shoppe. The abrasive bitch seems to delight in emphasizing the contrast between her huge bucket ass lower half and her tiny teen upper half. She’s short-waisted and notably wore wide boob belts to make herself even more so. Now she wears a blouse that’s a cross between rags, a volleyball net and goose wings. She should have worn a more tailored blouse with the tails out to lengthen her upper torso, but she’s bound and determined to look like a hugeass fashion idiot, with her only taste in her big mouth.
The poor priest of the Sienna Cathedral will have to fumigate and sanctify the place after Buraq and Moochelle desecrated the place with their heathen presence.
And the airhead who wrote that tongue-bath article better learn the difference between khaki, loden green and olive drab pants.
Oh, cut her some slack! Since her husband lost his job, she doesn’t have that huge staff to advise her on how to dress anymore. (Not that they did such a hot job while she was FLOTUS.)
But in this case of “No Class” the only thing I have to say is “Put it on! Put it on! PUT IT ON!”
The Dutch Olympian wants a man that’s charming, caring, sweet and a bit mysterious. I can offer old, grouchy, beer bellied and gainfully employed. Does that work?
The prostitute claims 10,000 men in 12 years. I’m not believing the math here. That’s more than 3 different men every day, 5 days a week, 50 weeks a year non-stop with no repeat customers. Since most higher end pros make their bank off of repeat clients, I’m thinking that number is much lower.
In fairness, the prostitute IS an Australian. Three a day isn’t far off what their amateurs get through.