I woke from this dead sleep, knowing that somewhere, the universe was out of balance. Low and behold, my Sharni has posted this heresy. It must have been the electron configuration that stirred my soul in my slumber.

This verbal defilement of this intimate gilding of femininity is beyond comprehension to me. The tactile sensation, the visual spectacle of secret warmth, the delicate intuit of womanhood. These are held in reserve for the leisure of the Gods. This gossamer adornment is to be cherished as the symbol of all that is sinuous and fulfilling. These icons of femininity must be accorded the reverence due them.

Now if you go to your local exorcist and explain your attitude and the fact that there is this guy in Cleveland who loves to suck panties, he’ll help you.


Now the cosmos can find it’s equilibrium.

Good night.

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