wsc

I wish I had the Wesson Oil concession for this shin-dig. And the job of applying the oil.

In order: Alain Delon No. 2 ? [Later ID'd as Anita Ekberg]* Brigitte Bardot Angie Dickinson Elizabeth Taylor Jessica Lange No. 7 ? [Later ID'd as Claudia Cardinale]* Ava Gardner Vivien Leigh Olivia Hussey Deborah Kerr Hedy Lamar Ursula Andress Jane Russell Sophia Loren Tippi Hedron *Thanks to Whitman (see posts below)

I'd adopt him. And the dog, too.

I'm happy, sad, embarrassed, or fill-in-the-blank, that I knew all of them except for No. 2 (after Alain Delon) and No. 7 (after Jessica Lange and before Ava Gardner). Can anyone put names to those two faces?

It looks like you could have this kid for lunch money.

This brought a tear to my eye. I hoped his life turned out well and was able to feel love and freedom after serving in prison for such an absurd "crime" as to be himself in a way that caused no harm to another living thing.

Thank you for the clarification.

"...company rates potential sales workers on their looks and offers existing workers more opportunities if managers rate them higher on a scale of hotness." And the waitresses at Hooters have big tits. So what? It's part of the brand and no brand is to everyone's taste. Hooters certainly isn't to mine, but I don't long to see them all die. Why isn't it enough to not shop or patronize a place or business if one doesn't like it, but rather also feel one must seek to destroy it because you find it not to your liking. These are manifestations of a cancel culture mentality where you are welcome only if you unreservedly and completely embrace my views and values. We no longer even pretend to be tolerant of differences and seek only to make the world safe -not for diversity- but for a conformity of own creation, made in own image and likeness.

Interesting reaction; I began to salivate. Is the model named Pavlov?

Thank you. It works.

Ah! I see this Bentley is a stick.

I think the "unavailable" refers to his log-in status, not his availability for meet-ups. Please correct if I'm wrong. I do wonder why so enticing a young man would select Bristol for a home base. Maybe a unique employment opportunity or a family obligation, and the escort gig is a sideline or added revenue steam. Nice looking young man. (BTW, Bristol to Roanoke is 130+miles, one way! Best wishes with that.)

I just pray the bottom is naked and on his knees with hands cuffed behind him, thinking "Oh god, it's going to be a long night." I'm sorry. Am I projecting?

And to think, someone once called my Nehru jacket "gay." OK, maybe it was a little gay, but this?

I read somewhere that a man tried this but mistook a shredder for the copier. It wasn't pretty. Or any longer.

Haven't met him, but Woof! Hope he's for real and wish him well. Nice hair, great muscles, handsome boy-next-door type, and no tats or piercings in sight. What planet does he come from?

A young man (straight) that I dated for several years was one of the best and most passionate kissers I've ever known. He had beautiful, soft, plump lips and told me this earned him the nickname Lips when he was in school. It fit him.

So the answer to Could we get more ridiculous? would have to be, Not without trying really, really hard.

Every breath I take.

Cuteness cubed.

Here, here! Jackhammer was a fine man who left us a wonderful legacy in this thread. To continue the tradition: A man joins a very strict monastic order. Their core principle is the Silentium Magna, or Silentium Sancta; the Great Silence, the Holy Silence. The monks are not allowed to speak except to their abbot, and only two words and only once every ten years. The abbot himself may speak as needed at any time. The new monk meets the abbot for the first time, and the abbot says, “Welcome.” Mindful of the rule, the monk replies, “Thank you.” Ten years go by and the time comes for the monk to meet the abbot after his first decade in the order. The abbot says, “What would you say to me, Brother Monk?” The monk says, “Bed hard.” The abbot, raising his eyebrows a bit, says, “Thank you, Brother Monk, I’ll make a note of that. You’re excused.” Another ten years elapse and the monk goes to his meeting with the abbot. “What would tell me now, Brother Monk?” The monk says, “Food cold.” The abbot, again raising his eyebrows, says, “Thank you, Brother Monk, I’ll make a note of that. You may go.” At the end of the next ten years, the monk meets the abbot again. The abbot says, “What’s on your mind today, Brother Monk?” The monk says, “I quit.” The abbot says, “Well, I’m not surprised. You’ve done nothing but bitch since you got here.”

I have been called for jury duty three times, but have never had to serve. One time, I sought and got a medical exemption, and the other two times all the pending trials were cancelled because plea deals were reached between the opposing sides before trial. I would probably regret it it, but there's something about the experience of participating this way in the legal process that I find enticing, and I also see it as an exercise in civic responsibility. Did some research to find that you cannot volunteer for jury duty, which seems reasonable. So it's left to the luck of the draw, and at my age, I think I get an easy pass if I want one, which I would if you can't request a bathroom break from the jury box.

I love Vintage Escort. Maybe we've been given a new category. Well done.

It's good to have a dream, and even better when it comes true. Enjoy!

A label I might, in some ways, merit. Like H. L. Mencken, I do not believe in the collective wisdom of individual ignorance. I also don't think the human race will improve itself substantially until it gets better members. I am ever hopeful, but grow less optimistic as I read the news.