Hungarian hottie Barbara Palvin dressed up in various semi-sensual costumes for a French magazine? Yep, I’ll take a side order of that with some ketchup. Barbara Palvin continues to be the hottest women I’ve ever known named Barbara, with such title becoming even more pronounced with this randomly sextastic pictorial in the current edition of L’Officiel Paris Magazine that comes to my doorstep wrapped around a baguette at the beginning of each month.
From bunny costumes to bikinis, I’m pretty sure this photo set proves that Barbara Palvin looks like a woman you’d shank your best buddy for in any number of personas. I’m not recommending you shiv your friend, but if it comes to it for the love of this crazy hot Hungarian woman, it’s good to have maybe imagined it out a bit. Whatever Barbara wants, Barbara gets. My new old rule. Enjoy.
Photo Credit: L’Officiel Paris Magazine
Hello delicious hot Hungarian lingerie model extraordinaire Barbara Palvin laying there all semi-nekkid like. How you doing?
Barbara Palvin continues to be the hottest woman I know named Barbara, upping her nomenclature cred with this Nico photoshoot for Madame Figaro magazine. Obviously there subtext and themes and styling and other things that people not my friends care about, but for the gentleman ogler, so much goodness to ogle even within the morass of distractions. Barbara Palvin truly is one of the heavenly creatures who walks this earth to create feelings of delight and yearning in her wake, both in equal measure. Someday, I’d like to let Barbara Palvin be my girlfriend. I’m sure that’s what all those unopened letters from her attorney sitting on my kitchen table must be requesting. She is a looker alright. Enjoy.
Fancy things are afoot at Egotastic! The kind of things where I might need to invest in a new suit. At least some fresher graphic tees. I’ve been sworn to secrecy. As in, eff you, don’t you dare tell any one. I frighten easily. I’ll share with you the details as soon as I know my mom has been freed safely from her Acapulco kidnapper’s cabana.
In the meanwhile, women who happen to look pretty damn amazing such as Barbara Palvin continue to be only two steps away from my clutches. Granted, those two steps are ten million dollars and the world’s perfect two-day facial growth, both of which elude me at the moment. But I’ve turned my fate over to the gods of the sextastic, assuming that if I keep sharing the world’s hottest women with al of you that someday karma will come and drop a girl like Barbara right in my morning Nutella. I keep an extra large tub for this precise purpose.
I am blessed to have the most loyal, scientifically proven smartest, and less scientifically proven best looking audience on the Internet. I never forget that. It inspires me like Bruce Lee playing Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon. Welcome to November.
Barbara Palvin continues to be the hottest woman I know named Barbara, strengthening her run at such a title with a tight white body hugging dress on the red carpet at Cannes for the premiere of The Search. Personally, my search is over, I’m ready to declare Barbara as my Memorial Day Weekend BBQ perma-date. We won’t eat so many hamburgers as we will consume the flesh of each other in a virtually sweaty manner, but that’s still a party in my book.
For all we rightfully make fun of the Cannes Film Festival, there’s no denying that it brings out an absolutely barrel full of the world’s hottest women, actresses, models, singers, celebrities, and just plain old fashioned hot young trophy wives. It’s quite a thing each May. Maybe, never year, I’ll be walking with Barbara down the carpet. I’ll be the guy everybody is pointing to and asking, who the heck is that idiot trying to pretend he’s with Barbara Palvin? Mission accomplished. Enjoy
Oh, sure, make fun of me for collecting women’s magazines, but every dangerous step I take onto the portico of my Pied-à-terre each month is a step I take for you. The slings and arrows of the middle school skateboard crew who mock my choices of periodicals have no idea of the riches contained within the likes of Marie Claire, the Italian edition, wherein wicked hot Barbara Palvin is without clothes and barely covered and quite wet and all-around uber-sextastic for the eyes of the more ardent gentleman ogler. How could I not do this for you>
Barbara Palvin remains the hottest woman I know named Barbara. Seeing her lucky hands violating our right to her even sweeter peeks makes me both angry and at the same time thrilled by a tease from this object d’ lust. Mostly I guess I’m just jealous of her digits. Oh, how nice that must feel. Like crushed velvet on heaven. Enjoy.
Hungarian model Barbara Palvin is clad in nothing but the tiniest of bathing suits in this shoot for Twin Set Beachwear. The Italian line of teeny weeny bikinis is a big fan of Barbara. They’ve had her model their other clothing brands as well as the bikini line before. My favorite it the one with the little stars that look like they belong on a rec room couch from the 70′s. Perhaps it’s the fond memories of make-out sessions on old furniture with similar patterns that draw my attention? Or maybe it’s the way Barbara’s swinging happy flesh mounds fill them out that do it for me? Say what you want about those Italian designers, they sure know how to make a good bikini.
Barbara Palvin remains my ever favorite sextastic lady named Barbara. This Hungarian supermodel has stormed the visual battlements of the modeling world in the past two years to raise her profile and lower the amount of clothes she wears just down to the bare essentials. In this case, a little bit of shiny satin from Twin Set lingerie and their Spring 2014 line.
I can easily imagine coming home to find Barbara in her boudoir wear in my own bedroom. I’d play hard to get, maybe pretend I wasn’t going Vesuvius on the inside as I asked her how her day of modeling underwear had gone. I am a gentleman after all. From small conversation we would inevitably move on to long sweaty several minutes of impassioned love making. Mostly impassioned on my part. Barbara might continue doing her nails. I don’t need my interactive experiences to be super interactive. I’m good with an occasional polite request to know if I’m done yet. Barbara, let’s get to the magic. You bring your underwear. I’ll being the noise-dampening wall panels and the cell phone signal jammer. Let’s make a weekend of it. Enjoy.