Hope You’re Not On A Diet…
She’s holding court out front of BB House, with the three older but not ancient Russian queens. They’re obviously infatuated by the Arab gay man’s youth and beauty, but they’re all competing for most pretentious title.
The Arab is winning. She travels all over the world, all of the time. She scolds the Russians (in general) for not speaking English. Everyone who’s anyone speaks English. Even the King.
When she’s not traveling, she designs clothing. She’s getting a tattoo of an elephant with a human skull head.
She asks them all what kind of phones they have. Of course she had the latest I phone so “I win!”.
The topic turns to sex, of course. She proclaims that she’s the main entree. Not the appetiser, not dessert, but the main course. And by the way, out of all the countries of the world, Thailand has the most sex. Dominican Republic is number two. Remind me to check that out.
She asks them how old they are. They tell her to guess. Pointing one at a time, “94, 93, and 91”. These fifty or sixty somethings are letting this too cute for her own good biatch get away with murder!
It’s all about me, me, me, and me.
She teases them by talking about how horny she is, then announces she has to leave. Then grabs one of their hands and says, this is what you’re going to have sex with, all night long, with your selves.
She does confess, in the end, that she has a rich, old, possessive husband to go home to. Met him when she was sixteen, he at 40. I’m guessing she’s now thirty something, but probably much older than she looks. Do the math? This explains everything.
Photojimsf!!! 