Yet another person seems not to have had a good connection when looking at my photographs. Pity that myopia and grainy connections have both become rampant.
[Sampiro is heard whispering loudly to his Security & Protocol eunuch something about “remove him the other guests” and “translate him to the tower til he is afforded time to reappreciate his judgment on aesthetics and to precisely how publich the sharing of information as to his habits of emission should be… and bring me another Yoohoo when you’re done”]
Seeing as how my adorable husband, Asimovian , has seen fit to post his pics, I’ll go ahead and do the same. However, pics of me are rather scarce since I’m usually behind the camera (and can delete pictures before they’re uploaded anywhere.)
Now that’s what I’m talking about! That, to me, is the very essence of sexy. I don’t mean to flirt. You’re married, and I am too more or less, just without that piece of paper thingy. I have seen tons of threads over time that ask what is sexy? What appeals to the opposite sex? What do you want in a mate? Yada yada. It’s not boobs (in girls). Not butts (men and women). Not blond or redhead or blue or pink. It’s THAT look. That shit-eating-grin. That KNOWING look. My baby (Maureen - pic withheld under penalty of death) has it in spades. So do you. That is sexy! Rowwrrrr!
Wow am I late to the party. I don’t have a digital camera but hunting around I found a photo of me online at a paintball tournament. I was reading a map on the wall. Not lined up for a firing squad.
I won a stupid door prize and they insisted on taking this picture
Qadgop the Mercotan and Silenus in Palm Springs, where I discovered that his xmex-like snout is retractable. Prehensile, too! You ought to see what he does to a chili relleno… <shudder>.
Me at the Head of the Charles in Boston in 2005. Once again I’m in the bow (and also looking out (bad rowing technique) at a boat that’s about to crash right into us).
