When it gets really quiet, I can hear Ali Larter’s milkers talking to me. I mean, no, we don’t have conversations about the ballgame last night, or politics, we never talk politics, but, those wonderfully grown puppies do whisper some pretty naughty things to me late into the evening, things I can’t repeat because of the children.
Ali Larter dashed from the salon with headlights on full yesterday, barely time to dry her hair, let alone cover up her udderly leer-worthy top. I’ll make note of this high note when next I hear from Ali’s melons, and encourage much more of this free-boobing behavior. Enjoy.