3:00 p.m., 12.10.04
Hormone season? Naaaaaah.

Youuuuu fucking beauty. How good is springtime? I swear my eyes have nearly been popping out of my head.

Where do all you ravishingly gorgeous women go during the cooler months? I mean, there's beautiful women wherever you go, but as soon as the sun comes out, it seems the reeeeeal spankers start making an appearance.

Like today on St. Kilda road, on the way back from lunch at the pub. I spotted her a mile away. Dark skin, sun dress, dark glasses, curly black hair, high heels, pneumatic chest straining to be freed from beneath a modest neckline, lips that were lovingly and deliberately sculpted by some higher being for the pure purpose of delicately cradling my straining manhood.

She was walking with a poise and posture that screamed "I *know* I look a million dollars and I look like a girl who wouldn't dream of touching you, but if you got me into a bedroom, Dutchy, I'd want you to throw me down on all fours, spank my tight little butt bright red and treat me like the slutty little BITCH I am!"

Or, y'know, maybe I was reading a little too much into it.

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