Lips

The very first thing I notice are a woman’s eyes. I have made no secret of my love of the female form, but those characteristics have to take a backseat to the “windows of the soul.” I believe you can read so much and uncover so much through eyes and facial expressions.

Feline.

Sexy.

The second thing I look for are the lips.

I enjoy all women, but I prefer a medium-full pair of lips. It is necessary to qualify the size with the “medium” tag or else you get girls with lips like red beanbags.

They have to overcompensate and ruin too much of a good thing.

Like putting butter on a croissant.

Like putting kif on good flower.

Like washing your garbage before throwing it out.

That last shot was for the Domestic Despot.

Separate?

When I can remember, but I am getting better.

Wash it?

Good luck with that.

I don’t understand the whole thing with getting lips puffed up to the size of over-inflated footballs.

Not sexy.

Comical.

Duck lips comes to mind. If anyone was gonna pull that look off it would have been Jessica Rabbit, but no, next. I absolutely cannot bear to look at some of the “after” pictures of pre and post-operative celebrities.

I will not name names, but enough already.

I still think of my wife as the hot girl I met on the wharf in Santa Barbara way back when (“No Bagger, it was only a moment.”) She has perfect (kissable) lips and it is cool growing older with her.

Some girls can pull off the strict disciplinarian-type look with really thin lips.

Think a teacher with a ruler.

And glasses.

Smokin’ hot.

And if you don’t think that lips are important, before I was married, I would have married a blue alien if she had the lips (AND body) of Nicki Minaj.

I mean let’s at least try to keep it real here.

Actually the blue alien Nicki thing is sounding kind of hot now that I think about it.

I used to love the red wax lips when those were a thing in the sixties.

Karen would like me to shave.

To expose my lips.

She does this not-cute-at-all thing where she goes to give me a peck on the kisser and she backs off yelping in mock pain as she exclaims “OUCH!”

She missed my blog on “corny.”

Talk about Virginia Smoked.

I used to want to plant a big wet sloppy kiss on Diana Ross in the sixties. She had some lips and pipes and when she and the Supremes would wiggle in unison…..

Hello!

I guess in the seventies I could see myself gnawing on Ali McGaw’s lower lip while she would read me crossword clues as we writhed and sweated in the mid-morning sun.

I suppose weirder things have happened.

Maybe not.

80’s—Rebecca de Mornay

90’s—Kim Basinger

00’s—So many beautiful lips (think Gwen Stefani, J-Lo) but that rascal Kate Winslet wins here.

10’s—I don’t care if she even has lips, but Jennifer Lawrence wins this and every ensuing category because she really blows my dress up!

Stay well.

Published by maddogg09

I am an unmotivated genius with an extreme love for anything that moves the emotional needles of our lives.

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