Her Fascinating Thighs
Because you crave more feminist poetry and Ms Desireé Dallagiacomo feels the need to share:
“My thighs feel upset because you only offered one bite of your Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.” Previously.
Because you crave more feminist poetry and Ms Desireé Dallagiacomo feels the need to share:
“My thighs feel upset because you only offered one bite of your Ben & Jerry’s Cherry Garcia.” Previously.
The thread may be beyond all help of tags now.
Well, now I’ve done it.
That creaking sound you hear is my right eyebrow.
Maybe it’s my lit-crit background but I kinda dug the poem.
It’s very Maya Angelou (meaning that the poem is totes derivative), wherein one body part is a stand-in for the whole soul.
She and I would never be friends. She’d spit on me if she could. But her delivery was kinda good.
wherein one body part is a stand-in for the whole soul
That must be what the whole “Wiggle your big toe” scene in Kill Bill was all about. The toe as indomitable symbol of spirit. I mean that’s what it’s about other than Quentin Tarantino and feet, obviously.
If my thighs represent my soul, what do my the bottoms of my feet represent?
If my thighs represent my soul, what do my the bottoms of my feet represent?
Your other two so . . . . .
—Yeah, works better on stage, that . . .
Why is getting up a three o’clock in the morning like a pig’s tail?
I don’t know George. Why is getting up a three o’clock in the morning like a pig’s tail?
Twirly.
Where did you go last night?
The cemetery.
Anyone dead?
All of ’em!
—Noel Coward, Red Peppers
I think I prefer the calypso Maya Angelou
Which reminds me I wish Bop Girl Goes Calypso were on DVD. It’s hilariously awful.
[ Comment deleted and turned into a short post. ]
Every now and then I get a little bit terrified,
And then I see the look in your thighs
Turn around bright thighs (every now and then I fall apart)
Turn around bright thighs (every now and then I fall apart)
…the thigh of the tiger…
Can anybody play this game?
Thigh, Thigh Cap’n
Goody two, goody two, goody goody two shoes.
Goody two, goody two, goody goody two shoes.
Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?
Don’t drink, don’t smoke, what do you do?
Subtle innuendoes follow
Must be something in thigh.
Thigh’s nothing you can say, David, that will excuse this entire thread.
Thigh hand, O God, has guided
Thigh flock, from age to age.
How has no one mentioned “Thigh me to the Moon”?
How has no one mentioned “Thigh me to the Moon”?
Someone did: https://thompsonblog.co.uk/2016/12/her-fascinating-thighs.html?cid=6a00d83451675669e201b8d242e911970c#comment-6a00d83451675669e201b8d242e911970c
Someone did
D’oh! I’ll see myself out:-(.
From the movie file…..
Thighs of Texas
The Thighs of Youth
Thighs of a Witness
Thighs of Fire
Thighs of a Stranger
The Hills Have Thighs
Thighs Wide Open
Thighs Wide Shut
Mickey Blue Thighs
Reach for the Thigh, gives new meaning to the story of Douglas ‘Tin Legs’ Bader.
Reach for the Thigh, gives new meaning to the story of Douglas ‘Tin Legs’ Bader.
Well played, well played indeed.
Thigh of the Tiger
I’ve Got My Thigh on You
Hungry Thighs
Come thigh with me, let’s thigh, let’s thigh away
If you can use some exotic booze
There’s a bar in far Bombay
Come thigh with me, let’s thigh, let’s thigh away!
Now is the thigh of our discontent, made glorious summer by this sun of York ….
as always the Daily Mash got there before us, in regard to Gillian Anderson
http://www.thedailymash.co.uk/news/celebrity/men-still-have-feelings-for-gillian-anderson-2013052970264
“Maybe it’s my lit-crit background but I kinda dug the poem.”
Well, we all have what others would perceive as our weaknesses.
I thought the poem was crap, but I’m a soldier/engineer/software weasel. Male, too.