As the Hungarian F1 Grand Prix is about to start, I’ll look to another kind of racing altogether, that being off-road rally competition.
And so we come to Madalena Antas of Portugal. Lest anyone think she’s just a pretty face, she specializes in desert-type rallies (e.g. the Dakar Rally, the deadliest race in the world).
She does have another side, however:
All that and a world-class driver as well… [sigh]
No, this has nothing to do with architecture, except in its broadest [sic] sense. Here’s someone named Vanessa Hudgens (32), gamboling in the surf with Rollergirl (51):
Gotta say that while the kid is a sweetie, Heather Graham is much more toothsome. In a heartbeat, Simon.
You may all be wondering what happened to the Monday Funnies today.
Simple answer: it’s all the Brits’ fault.
Yesterday saw both the final round of the Open Championship at Royal St. George and the British F1 Grand Prix at Silverstone, so I was in a sports coma and couldn’t put together the usual collection of smutty cartoons, memes and scantily-clad women.
I shall endeavor to provide a replacement for tomorrow, although I should point out that Combat Controller is in town with many guns (as always), and some range time will no doubt feature in today’s schedule.
So I make no promises.
Still, to provide at least a token offering, here’s a collection saved in my files simply as “Blanca Suarez”:
I have no idea who she is, but that’s about par for the course (if you’ll excuse the analogy).
Back in the late 1960s and early 70s, it became apparent that Rhodesia was going to fall and become just the latest African shithole (now known as Zimbabwe). As a result, there was a veritable flood of White Rhodesians over the Limpopo River into what was still a prosperous South Africa. With their typical mordant wit, Rhodesians called this exodus “taking the gap”, and abbreviated it into the simpler verb “gapping”.
Of course, this was only a short-term solution, because as one wag of my acquaintance put it: “Where are you Whities going to go next? The Atlantic Ocean’s deep, you know?”
One of those who foresaw the inevitable Zimbabwe-fication of South Africa was Your Humble Narrator, who had inherited his longtime family tradition of cowardice (see: fleeing France for the Dutch Cape to escape the persecution of the Huguenots), and thus took his own gap to these United States in the Great Wetback Episode of 1986, deep Atlantic Ocean notwithstanding. And so did quite a few others, Longtime Friend Trevor actually beating me here by a few months.
Since the Mandela Honeymoon, South Africa has of course continued its own steep plummet into Darkest Africa, and the flood of Gappers has increased, not just to the U.S. but also to Canuckistan, Oz and even to Britishland (for those fortunate enough to have British passports).
I told you all that simply so that I could show you the latest Gappers, who happen to be the twin nieces of the late Princess Diana, and who grew up in Cape Town. Ladies Amelia and Eliza have landed in London for good (Brit citizens, natch), and I’m fairly sure they’re going to do well, having been blessed with good looks, excellent dentistry, breeding and no small amount of Spencer cash.
Of course, if they follow what seems to be the new norm in upper Brit society, they’ll no doubt soon be enamored of the usual crowd of tattooed rappers and malcontent European footballers of questionable descent.
Call me cynical, or realistic.
A whole bunch — at least a dozen of you — wrote to me with the excellent news that Salma Hayek has no intention of ending her stream of bikini pics, all taken during the Wuhan Panic Festival of 2020.
I’m assuming they are of this genre:
However, I have also received the occasional missive from people (men, I think) who do not share my fondness for full-figured women. (I know, they’re to be pitied, but whatever.)
So in order to prove that this here back porch is a Big Tent, so to speak, here are a couple of skinnier women who can also wear a bikini, e.g. Liz Hurley:
…Lottie Moss: 
…Karen Gillan: 
…Amanda Holden:
…Kimberley Garner:
…and so on. I hope you fans of the A-cup are satisfied.
I’m going to go out on a limb, here, and say, “You can never have too much boob”, with but one (important) qualification: “It really depends on the owner thereof”.
There’s Salma:
…of whom we can safely say: “You can never have too much.”
And then there’s, say, Kathy Griffin:
…of whom we can say with equal safety: “Dear God, no.”
Sorry: here’s Carol Vorderman, to restore everyone’s good humor:
…who (if I may make a teeny criticism) doesn’t show us enough boob.
And this being the Sun, there’s a followup.