It’s hot sexy calendar time. Yes, that’s all year round, but naturally it peaks during purchase period time from October through December when every man makes the most important decision of his life — whose blessed ta-ta’s shall I look at every morning in the coming year. Thankfully, we have big walls and big hearts here at Egotastic, so we don’t have to choose from just one among so many wonderful options. However, if we had to choose, you can bet Kelly Brook would make the finalists cut.
Kelly Brook has been bringing tingles to annual calendars for about a decade now. She’s an institution in hottie wall visions of glorious chests. While she doesn’t go nekkid in her shoots, the advantage is you don’t need to remove content from your wall when Aunt Myrtle steps in to see why you never call. Of course, you can’t stand Aunt Myrtle, which is why you never call, but I’d recommend going with the more vague ‘I’m just so crazy busy’ followed by some inaudible mumbles. Then gently guide her to the door so you can once more be alone with your Kelly Brook calendar.
I think in my recent edition of Stalker Weekly, I mentioned to you my excitement knowing Kelly Brook was moving herself into my general vicinity. That’s a real estate term, sadly, not a sexual innuendo. Now Kelly and her round mounts of rebound fun are jiggling up and down the local streets making coffee runs, shopping, and whatever else it is curvaceous full-bodied female models do in between stripping down for the cameras.
Kelly Brook is the answer to those of you who displeased with the trends of skinny chicks in Hollywood. Kelly has got more than a little something something tucked up under her wardrobe. She’s a woman with no straight lines anywhere, save for the line of men moving into place to hit on her now that she’s single again. Not that that stopped them before. Kelly, come by any time and borrow some sugar from me. You know know when I might need a return favor on those sweets. Enjoy.
Oh, to be mostly alive and living in Los Angeles. It was kind of sucky yesterday with all the smog and traffic and hot wings being raised ten cents to cover the cost of animal cruelty provisions. But then I found out Kelly Brook and her curves of wonderment are moving here. Oh, happy days to be the peeping and mildly stalking my curvaceous neighbor hottie with both my monocle, binoculars, and tri-focal lens I invented specifically for the purpose of Mr. Happy having something to see as well.
Kelly was putting around town over the weekend in her booty and sweet crotch parts hugging blessed stretch pants looking for a new house to call her home. Well, our home I like to think since she broke up from that muscle bound goon she was dating while secretly wishing she could be with the slightly less bench pressy me. Kelly, I have so many housewarming gifts for you. Almost entirely unwrapped, as they shall stay until you move in and I popover with my presents and some brownies. Welcome to the neighborhood, Kelly. If you see creepy things in the trees, I’m sure you’re just imagining them. Enjoy.
The lovely Kelly Brook was spotted being all cleavy while pumping gas in LA. Kelly has some of the best knockers out there right now and she enjoys showing them off. She had on a low cut shirt which displayed her funbags to the world. Just because you are out doing errands doesn’t mean you should keep your boobies hidden from view. Kelly also had on a short skirt which let us get a good look at her sexy legs. Kelly is one of those girls next door kind of hot. I mean, she doesn’t look like any girl I ever lived next door to. Maybe if you live in a gated community that caters to hot people. She more reminds me of the head cheerleader/homecoming queen type of girl. The kind who might say hi to you in the hallway to be nice but would never date you in a million years.
Speaking of which, Kelly is newly single, guys. So, good luck with that.
Three months before the Yuletide and St. Nick has already brought me exactly what I want. Kelly Brook and her bodacious yams of glory on the streets of Los Angeles in a see-through sheer top and bra and a short skirt showing off her wrap-around-me-oh-please-dear-god legs. Damn, this is how the sidewalks in heaven surely must look. Kelly Brook with a big smile and even big funbags and happy time nipples.
Every now and then my faith in humanity is restored. Though that is completely insignificant compared to my faith in the power of crazy hot women with glorious ta-ta’s to make me smile all over. Kelly Brook induces more smiles than she could possibly ever know. Thank you, Santa. I still want the Lego Star Wars MIB set, but this is the best teaser gift ever. Enjoy.
Kelly Brook is back in town. My town I mean. You didn’t even have to tell me. I felt a familiar twitch in the middle of the night. Like a good kind of cramping. Some people can tell the coming change in weather with their bunions, my happy parts alert me to the presence of super big and showy Funions of the sextastic celebrity kind.
Kelly Brook reminds us that ladies who require two hands, two feet, and everything in between to contain their bodacious curves have been the true banners of feminine passion inducement through the ages. No knocks on the slender gals who also float my boat, but through the eons the busty girls with the wide hips and the jiggly parts have been especially revered as the fecund femmes of the faptastic. Kelly Brook would indeed be their queen. Or my queen if she’d simply take me up on my offer. Kelly, call me, I’ve got lots of fluffy bath sponges. Enjoy.
Yesterday was Kelly Brook showing off in bright orange, today, low cut black dress outside of the BBC offices to make sure everybody within ten Big Ben distances got a stiff peek at her flouncing boobtastic. If those Kelly Brook funbags aren’t a British historical landmark, I’m not sure what would qualify.
We had the privilege of hosting Kelly Brook in her Spandex over the summer in Los Angeles. The backside frontside combo views in the warm weather were something spectacular. Presumably Kelly has returned home and I shall miss the memories of her mammaries up and down the local boulevards here. But, such is the life of the wandering ogler. Ours is but to lust far away. Enjoy.