There’s been much ado about Uma Thurman and perhaps changes made to her lovely face by means of non-natural intervention. I suppose it’s okay to suggest and not something unheard of in Beverly Hills where there do seem to be a large number of doctor’s offices offering such services. Somebody’s partaking of their professional offering. You can see the filled parking spots. But my agenda today is a Forties and Faptastic veteran thespianic with poking nipples in a red bikini frolicking in St. Bart’s. Uma looks more than alright to me.
I don’t keep track of all her boyfriends or babies or the gossip so much, just my insane desire to discuss detailed elements of the production of Kill Bill with her while we lay nekkid in one another’s arms covered in the sweat of romance spent. Actually, I usually nap after, so maybe she could just write me down some of her favorite movie set memories while I doze. Life is as simple as you make it. Right now, I simply want to see Uma in her MILFtastic little red bikini. Enjoy.
Photo Credit: FameFlynet
You’d think the Bambi awards were some kind of adult entertainment achievement ceremony. Maybe that’s just where my wanders. In fact, they are something German given to celebrities for something I don’t quite understand. But they do it every year and big name hotties show up in Germany to perform and walk the red carpet and receive awards and smile. I’m guessing half the people walking the carpet have no idea what the award show is either. No matter, looking super sextastic, wave, and blush and say thank you a lot. That’s really all you need as an alluring woman to make it through most situations.
Toni Garnn looked sextacular in her cleavy gown while Ariana Grande did her typically coquettish flirty cat routine on the stage and Uma Thurman just strutted and preened like everybody’s super hot mom. I’d call that a successful evening. That’s how I imagine Sunday Night Football to be in the home of my dreams. Thanks, Toni Garrn, I would like some more Velveeta cheese dip, yes. Oh, that would be magical. So many crazy passion inducing women, so little time. Enjoy.
Sometimes I feel like I’m the only person in this world not vacationing on a yacht off the Southern coast of France. Though I suppose there are also one or two of you out there who were not hanging in the blue waters off of St. Tropez this weekend aboard your various sized yachts. But Uma Thurman was.
Mommyhood has certainly take on Uma Thurman, or maybe it’s vice-versa, but the one time slender-as-a-rail thespianic and Kill Bill kick butt star has become a much curvier, bosomy gal since popping out the pups and moving heavily into parental mode. I kind of like it. Not just the cushion-for-the-pushin’ you crude bastards I like to call my friends will shout out. But just the air of a PTA president who you know is quite a bit naughty when the sun goes down and the lights go off.
And with that new floppy rack to bring to the table (or sofa or yacht pull out bed), I’m guessing when the ship is a rocking, kids do not come a knocking. There, I used two horrible old school cliches in a single post. I win. Or I would, if I could just afford a yacht. Enjoy.
It seems like everybody is on a yacht somewhere these days, St. Tropez mostly, save for yours truly, who remains a landlubber and lady lover from more modest quarters. But that doesn’t mean I’m not going to take the chance to leer at the sextastic set aboard their fancy vessels, especially lovely ladies like Uma Thurman who have suddenly developed memorably mommy mams during their veteran days.
Hanging out on a fancy ship off the coast of Southern France, Uma showed exactly why the MILF class always owns the fiesta deck of any party boat. Plain and simple, I’m ready to commit to Uma in some type of mutually beneficial Adult Nursing type relationship. And, by mutually beneficial, I mean, I’ve yet to have any idea what the hell Uma will get out of it. But maybe she just likes to say ‘yes’ to overly eager looking gentlemen. Enjoy.
Here’s five things I can’t afford. Paris. Anything Versace. And Mena Suvari, Emma Roberts, and Uma Thurman. I truly only care about the latter three. But at least I got to window shop as the three tasty celebrity treats got all dolled up for the Versace fashion show in Paris over the weekend. I guess it’s one of the 27 fashion weeks in Paris again. But I’m not complaining. Not when it brings the sextastic ladies out in their form fitting dresses.
Sadly, all three of these lovely lasses are well versed in the strict tight-crossing of the leg policy when viewing a fashion show from the VIP front row. No panties were flashed. But, my heart still went pitter patter. I’ll save the actual cardiac arrest for when I see the price tags on what the models were wearing. Enjoy.
The good folks at amfAR like to throw a party, seemingly every weekend now. They tap the kegs more often than your local frat house. But, tt’s a good cause so onward I say, especially since they always do seem to have a fine contingent of sextastic celebrities in attendance, showing off their fineries.
At the amfAR Inspiration Gala last night in the Big Apple, two particular ladies really stood out. Uma Thurman for her bouncing udders both upright and down top as she lowered her mommy milkers into plain sight. And Jennifer Lopez, for an ever fine booty that she just so happens to exhibit in dresses cut tight across her rump. Bless you for that, Jenny from the Block.
All in all, it looked like another spectacular party that I was not invited too. I’m guessing my $5 donation was not up to snuff for VIP treatment. Still, ogling remains the very cheap and heavily fulfilling alternative. Enjoy.
We get letters, oh, we get letters, and you preggo fetishists just love to write, mostly in crayon, granted, but we respect each and every single personal kink of each and every one of our readers, not to mention the twenty-seven we’ve self-identified as obscure sexual preferences related to our own psych chart, so who are we to deny you more swollen bodied Uma Thurman, still working her with-child thang off the coast of St. Barts.
I suppose for Uma herself, this is the brief timeline of opportunity to have a big pair of knockers and a full asstastic, the kind of thing we’ve never really seen from the thin-framed model and actress over the years. If somebody had to get her pregnant again to create this visual novelty, so be it, we don’t have to change the diapers, just ogle and depart. Enjoy.