Trimming is a requirement, but they DO call it a pussy for a reason. And they don't mean "Dr. Evil's cat". I new a girl that shaved it in a Nike swoosh. Big surprise she was a stripper. Best female singer (or any singer) of all time: ...FUCK Ann used to be gorgeous.
Honestly, the whole waxed thing does nothing for me... Seems too pre-pubescent/borderline molester. You gotta:
Janis motherfuckin' Joplin, y'all. A classic that bears repeating. Amongst girls who didn't die choking on their own vomit, Alison Mosshart of The Kills and The Dead Weather gives me all sorts of boners. Girl oozed rock n roll and sex. Damn sexy live, too.
This chick got her voice from actually physically damaging her vocal chords, it just worked to her advantage. Then the world allowed every fucking drunk chick at a karaoke bar to sing this song, allowing the terrorists to win. Not even fucking Meatloaf could make a video so corny.
Am I doing it right? Video is completely terrible, but I make an exception just to marvel at death metal vocals coming from a woman.
And on the trimming of the hedges....meh. I mean, I sort of prefer a more well-maintained look, but I don't care that much. Pussy is pussy, and telling women "Your natural body is wrong, fix it for our pleasure" makes me uneasy. The prevalent viewpoint of "Hairless or GTFO" is kinda fucked up. I'm going to say that music without boobies still tops URL placards.
I'm still recovering from last weekend. I got out of work last Friday at 3, and was not any kind of sober until about 11 pm Sunday. There were Circus Boys, Blithering Idiots, Iced Tea Vodka glasses the size of my head, and I beat my record for most joints smoked in one sitting (I think at one point there were five joints, a pipe, and a roach circulating all at the same time, but I might have just been that high.) In the day, I baked in the sun. At night, we hung out and my cousin's apartment and dissected Pineapple Express scene by scene. Speaking of which, there is a picture hanging on the wall in James Franco's apartment. By the door. Opposite side from the footprints in the sand poster. My cousin's boyfriend thinks it's a bug on a ledge. My sister thinks it's a pirate ship. I think it's a helicopter. Will someone look at this fucking thing and make an assessment.
I don't care, I still love Zeppelin. Apparently I can still drink Natty Ice at room temperature too. Uff da!
Impatience. If you had tied little twine loops together for 12 hours today, you'd be dying to be in your corner of the house with a beer too.