I’m still not quite clear why the celebs bring their designer handbags to the gym, then again, I’m hardly looking at the accessories of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley when so much of her mainframe is on display in her blessed stretch pants and cut-off top leaving the gym this morning in L.A. Oh, that arse on my belusted Britty model.
Rosie has been hitting the work outs pretty hard of late. This leads me to believe she has something extra special in the works in terms of visual exhibition. I always hope and pray for full nekkid pictorials, though not sure I can possibly even dream so high with the hotness that is Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. For now, I’ll be content with staring at her tummy and mapping out the sweat stains on her Spandex. It’s a hobby I highly recommend. Enjoy.
I do so lust Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, in perfect post-gym form. Sunglasses, lipstick, body baring workout outfit, handbag that costs more than my annual rent. It’s all there and ever so perfect with the addition of some finely worked on abdominal muscles and a tight, lickable (if I may) stomach.
It’s rather rare to see any Brit flashing skin in the midday sun, let alone one as fine as Rosie, but certainly a treat for the tummy loving ogling eyes. Especially without her protective draping boyfriend around to ruin the pictures. There’s so many games I’d love to play on Rosie’s tight midriff, some of which I’m quite certain are not sold in stores. Oh, Rosie, let me have a bounce or three. Enjoy.
Man, how I do lust Rosie Huntington-Whiteley. Even though her mere name has always sounded to me somewhat like ‘can’t afford me’, which is likely true, the hot Brit fashion and lingerie model continues to float my boat, warm my cockles, and do things to my rooster I dare not mention on this family oriented site.
The lovely lass is once again in a Marks & Spencer lingerie catalog shoot, providing glimpses of what it might be like to see Rosie dressing and undressing in the boudoir you share with the sextastic model. I imagine I would spend most of my life savings purchasing lingerie for Rosie to feel feminine in, even if it is to be mostly chewed apart by my teeth as Rosie and I embrace in the exchange of sweet bodily nectar for three to four minutes she will never ever forget. Mmm, nectar. Enjoy.
Without sounding too Nostradaumus, I was peeking into the wide open cleavetastic dress of Rosie Huntington-Whiteley at the British Fashion Awards and wondering how the heck her blessed boobtastic was staying concealed behind that dress. Well, it didn’t take much of a jiggle and turn stepping outside the awards before Rosie’s entire lust-inducing chest puppy came fully into view. Quite the sight for sore eyes and soon to be sore other body parts. I could almost feel Jason Statham somewhere going berserker. That’s how good it was.
Some days you just get lucky. We try our best to make that happen here everyday at Egotastic!, the Wonka factory for hot girls. Enjoy.
Talk about your eyeball workouts. Checking out Rosie Huntington-Whiteley leaving the Tracey Anderson fitness place thing in Studio City was quite the stretch for the retinal cones. Between the long and lean and lovely British model in her yoga pants showing off her lower female form, and her excited nipples poking through her tank top, I really felt the burn.
My doctor is always reminding me how healthy exercise is for the mind, body, and soul. He knows me well enough that I’ll just assume he meant watching. Enjoy.
I guess it’s Men of the Year because there are just too many good men in England to name just one guy the best. Naturally, I expect to win that award when it’s handed out in the U.S, I mean, if GQ would finally admit that torn jeans and an AC/DC concert t-shirt are the height of fashion. Regardless, the entire evening in honoring the men is really about bringing out the hot women, as GQ always does, including belusted hotties Rosie Huntington-Whiteley, Alice Eve, Emma Watson, and Daisy Lowe, to name a few funny talking sextastic ladies.
Someday, I’ll have girls of this caliber all decked out and drinking martinis at one of my swank backyard soirees. Just as soon as I get a backyard. Or figure out what soiree means. Enjoy.
Rosie Huntington-Whiteley managed to break free of the guiding if not commanding grip of Jason Statham for a few lone minutes in London over the weekend, once again revealing herself to be one of the hottest women in the world, helped this evening by a short leather skirt which fueled long standing RHW boudoir.
It’s almost impossible these days to get photos of Rosie without Jason with his arm wrapped tightly around his prized catch, which I suppose I understand in the primal scheme of things, and yet his high school boy clinginess tends to ruin pictures. So, blessed were we to see Rosie outside the Groucho Club in London with her overarching boyfriend several paces back presumably trying to beat up everybody who was peeking at her.
It’s a dangerous sport, ogling Rosie Huntington-Whiteley these says. But I’m into danger. I mean, from a safe distance and all, natural. That dude looks crazy. Enjoy.