Editor’s Note: some or all of the media previously associated with this post has been removed.
- – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - – - -
I can think of no more vivid R.E.M. sleep dream than those I dream of Lucy Pinder and the fun we would have in our Swiss Alps lodge whilst snowed in for several months during the bitter winters. Not only do Lucy and I manage to keep the home fires burning, but the byproduct of our constant love making melts ice and snow on pathways to the homes of old widows who may now be rescued before the harsh temperatures can take them. We are hailed as heroes of the mountain village, a statue erected in the town square of Lucy and I intertwined in a passionate full-body embrace, as children in odd costumes play various woodland instruments. Not that I’ve thought about this too much.
On Mondays, why not kick the week off with some mammries of the very highest order. My object d’ lust, Lucy Pinder, stripping out of her white body suit and right into your own middle of the night home theater of the mind. Enjoy.