
The two dolls who sit most intimately with Sir Paul sure look sophisticated to me. They're definitely MILF-material. I bet they didn't leave that corn-fed 20-year-old standing sweetly there alone with the old man. Not when they could practice their sensual arts while passing on a few secrets. And one spring chicken is clearly enough, the rest is conversation.
And qu'est-ce que c'est...who do you think took the unattributed photo??
But look at the splendid canapés! I think something with a sexual theme is afoot in those Berain-esque shells-with-pistils numbers. I used to serve a simple and delicious hors d'œuvre comprised of a cocktail frank stuck inside a pitted prune and baked off. I called them Pudenda et Wagina.
Now, the bits about the armed guards in his bedroom and the pay phone for guests is merely grist for the tabloid mill. Important, and worthy of a reread, is his early spotting of the potential of Arab oil---along with his love affair with Adolf Hitler's Third Reich. Maybe we can gain some insight into how we ever arrived at such a sorry predicament in the Middle East! Could anybody ever have seen it coming, I wonder? Oh well, wash it down with a bit of bubbly, I say.
Hello! :)
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