I don’t just have a lust crush on Camille Rowe, I want to bear her children for her. In the very least, it would be good cover for the ten pounds of cronuts I put on this past winter. I’m like a damn bear except when I sleep for twenty minutes in somebody’s hammock, they don’t film me and call it cute, they just phone the police and use the word trespassing and emotionally disturbed.
Camille is featured all kinds of French saucy and hot bodied sextastic in So It Goes magazine. I just want to eat her up. Not Dahmer style, more figuratively and lingering nekkid lasting. She continues to be my ideal European vineyard vacation weekend escape fantasy girl. I don’t even like wine, or vineyards, or anything to do with bed and breakfasts where you have to sit with some lady with a mole on her cheek and hear about her antiquing finds, but for Camille, I’d do it all with a smile. Enjoy.