Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Wednesday's Woman Priscila Pires

Listen, I don't seek Brazillian stories out, I don't go looking for them and I feel a little like Michael Corleone everytime I post some Brazillian woman:

Like I really had another woman all lined up and ready to go for today's post and I happened upon Priscilla and was like disappointed that some other chick just threw off my whole schedule. Like out and out just walked across my computer screen like Rick James and looked at my itinerary and was basically like 'Buy another one you rich motherfucker'. [Basically the equivalent of I don't care about what you were doing and however you thought it was going to be] But that aside, when I see a woman like today's woman can you blame me? I mean really? If they spoke English in Brazil there'd be no need for cats to border jump into America and thug your way in to this country anymore. No this country would be quite spacious. Having said that though I grew up in America, I had my first kiss here and every romantic excursion thereafter here. I've seen people that I love flourish here, grow old and die and be born here alike. I'm most at peace with the familiarity I have with the landscape the temperatures and scenery that I love so much. I owe a great deal to this country but that aside if they spoke English in Brazil and I could either live here or there, I'd be in that long line of people smuggling their way into Brazil, riding in the backs of unassuming trucks, stowing away on trains and trespassing my way into the country under the shadows of the moon in the darkest hours.

Priscilla Pires is a living testament to this...



Small, small crit. I just wish she'd cut out that same damn pose and killed the pouty lips because that takes from what is a 10 and makes the package a 9.9995. But hey, whether you give me a Benz or a Benz with a spec of dirt on it, I know one thing, if I'm offered I won't be walking. Like ever. Even when I get the mail. You get what I'm saying.

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