Helena Christensen is the only thing that matters.

She’s like 100 fucking years old…seriously…old enough to have been at Woodstock…yet so fucking amazing to look at…it confuses me…but not too much because her body warrants me wanting to make love to it with my mouth…over and over and over again…until she gets waterlogged and starts to look her fucking age.

This is a good kind of freak of nature…you know, like the girl who can’t get pregnant…or the one with two vaginas…or the Siamese twins who always has threesomes, even if it’s really just a two-and-a-half thanks to the two heads, two pussies, but only one heart.

None of which has anything to do with Helena Christensen. If anything, it’s just noise getting in the way of my true love for her…love that I should try to channel into songs…even though I can’t sing…I’d learn for her.

#fact
 



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