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August 15, 2007


Racist jibe of the day: these Greeks really do go overboard, don't they?

One sight of that diminutive figure is enough to send me into raptures of delight that I blush to describe on a family blog such as this. How shall I count the ways? Eyes, wide and bright like saucers of champagne, yet also dark and passionate as goblets of ruby Buckfast. A neck, slender and playful like a faun’s, framed by hair delicate yet supple, like silken ropes of song. Her mouth – the mouth that launched a thousand policy discussions – a mouth that seems to defy the laws of physics, that exists in four or even five dimensions, curving space and time around it into an exquisite event horizon of pure sensuality. Breasts like quivering moulds of vodka jelly, barely restrained by the power suits and prim blouses, with peaks hauntingly reminiscent of Paisley Abbey on a misty, moonlit night. And the lisp – O, the lisp! Each word magically transformed into a teasing, seductive invitation that no mythological siren of yore could ever hope to match. And Wendy knows lots of words; she’s brighter than a brain pie.

Is it the moussaka or the plate smashing that causes this?

August 15, 2007 in The English | Permalink


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I would say it's the result of reading too many bodice-rippers...

Posted by: Sgt. Mom | Aug 15, 2007 7:17:29 PM

Come on you must be getting old.
She sounds right tasty to me.

Posted by: john cramer | Aug 16, 2007 2:19:14 AM