Just kill me now, Tantalus, I can’t take much more of this. Claudia Romani and her bikini booty show along the South Florida shoreline is really ebbing and flowing the strength of my very being. I can feel my hands reflexively reaching out to give virtual squeezes over and over again, with nothing to show for it some really serious hand cramps that no amount of Bengay seems to be fixing here.
Consider me a single issue voter. Come 2016 I will be casting my ballot for the man or woman who promises to give me the right to take Claudia’s beautiful tanned seat as my lawfully wedded wife. To love, honor, and hot oil massage until likely expensive and messy divorce do us part. Still, the wedding cake in the shape of Claudia’s badonkadonk will be both classy and memorable. My mother can finally cry in front of somebody besides my principal or parole officer. Enjoy.