Personal Narrative-Pink Bisoproll

Her perky alert nipples stand hard like two pink Bisoprolol pills. Her Kawaii shaped viridian eyes will end up staring at me with a concurrent void of intimacy and distance, when it's time to Man yoghurt on her phizog. Her Cupid- bow lips joined by ridges of a defined philtrum, which I'm intimately acquainted with by all measures of fellatio, although never shared a husband's peck that's systematically planted on a wife's ever increasing flabby cheek; when leaving for the good-old nine to five. There was also a lack of nasolabial folds; one could surmise a vacuous personality that seldom laughed in many years; but in contrast to the lower regions of this face canvas, a glabellar was indented with the number 11; an indication of fake and real orgasms, deep throat gagging, and other numerous transgressions this mug has withstood on the meat screen. Her triangular cheekbones with the use of Fresnel spotlights would give prominence in a black and white photo: the kind you see in Hollywood's …show more content…
Peepers that could out-stare hoods of Yakuza gang-lords; his wiry body gave off a hatchling figure, and the aquiline nose and vulture sunken cheeks added to the concoction of disregarded bird parts: I haven't had the pleasure of working with him before and I can honestly say I found him repellent.
Unlike the cameraman's emaciated appearance, the boom operator's demeanour was voracious in stature; generally a personification of fast food burps and beer farts. What's really repugnant was his hirsutism: Long, thick, black chest and armpit hair sprouted from out the caves of his white t-shirt; trying to grab new hosts by its tentacles. Particularly when people walked past at a quick pace, moved the pubic hair in their direction, like zombie arms reaching for soft unsullied skin. Unfortunately I've had the sardonic pleasure of working with this fatuous thing many times