Initially, I was going to reblog this because I loved that she would be smiling, were it not for that, uh, insistent and intrusive object preventing her from doing so. But when I hold my hand in front of my monitor so that I see her only from the nose up, all evidence of her smile disappears. Does anyone else see that?
Oscillo costantemente tra momenti in cui non me ne frega nulla e altri in cui il Nulla mi frega.I. Lungarella
I’m not a big fan of body painting and I have no idea what event this is from but I had to reblog the photograph just because of the defiant and life-affirming joy in her expression.
Christina Hendricks is renowned for her voluptuous figure, right? So why would some misguided buffoon (“foonman,” in this case) think it necessary to Photoshop her into beyond-Jessica-Rabbit territory? The original image of the beautiful Ms. Hendricks follows immediately.
Le léger clapotis de l’eau sur les rochers
The bedroom is the obvious place in the home to photograph a naked woman. The office/personal library makes more of a statement about the woman, though. We ask ourselves “Why is she there?” Or, more accurately, “Why is she there with no clothes?” She must —especially with those glasses— be a reader (i.e., of superior intelligence). And incongruously naked? Is she perhaps an intelligent woman with sensual inclinations? I don’t need to tell you that that is the sapiosexual gold mine!
The engineer in me has to look at something like this and marvel at its sheer, intricate beauty.
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