Today's Geek Week, that venerated coup d'oeil into nubile nerdy lady-flesh, is quite magnificent. It's a fine confection to retain in your libido-memory, to sustain you when you're hosing down your obese elderly aunt in the home later (your evening plans may differ).
The superior seat-meat and buxom boobage you sagaciously demand is in attendance (lest you are incited into encroaching upon our office in the witching hour, besetting the windows with a frenzied fist flurry, and shrieking, "WHERE ARE OUR TITS?" and/or shitting in the wastebins. You'd have right on your side if you did elect to do so, you mad, mad bastard), further enhanced by that befuddling penchant for woman-part concealment via console paraphernalia. In summation, this gallery is sufficient to give you groin-strain. Which is a disconcertingly athletic-sounding notion, so we'll dub it pants-strain.