(And I have one large hand.)
It’s like she’s a bowling ball.
I remember lazy summer days in Bogue Chitto with my bowling league. I didn’t roll a lot of strikes, but it was America. Courtney Taylor puts me in mind of those times. I bet I could pick her up even before she stops rolling out of the ball return.
But I can’t help but think that there is a reason those parts evolved past immediate proximity to each other, rather than this Cirque du Soleil joyride of easy access Ms. Taylor is so fetchingly presenting. There is a reason it shouldn’t be so easy.
And another thing.
Having watched Lars von Trier’s “Melancholia” last week, in which an asteroid crashes into the earth but not before making me wish I had just watched “The Kingdom,” “Breaking the Waves,” “Bring It On,” and even “AntiChrist” again instead, I know the dangers of things being too close together.
With all of Ms. Taylor’s significant holes and protuberances so close together, mightn’t the world explode?
Something’s gonna explode, anyway.
But “Sexual Gymnastics” here
Previously on Porn Valley Observed: Coitus—on the set of “The Big Lebowski” porn parody; Preventing “This Ain’t AntiChrist XXX”
See also: Digital Sin