We HATE ourselves in this outfit. Should’ve gone for the gold lamé.

Mirror face.

There we were, idly minding our own whilst resting against a corrugated metal fence in a far off land, breaking in our silver Speedies (yes, they’re silver. Just silver comes out kinda gold-ish in black ‘n’ white. If you catch our midrift) and just taking in the air whilst holding our bulging arms behind our head and pouting like a silly bugger, when off went the shutter. Click click flash flash click click. It was totally out of the blue and also unexpected.

If only we’d had our hair done.

*checks notes*

Oh, it’s someone else entirely. Joseph Sayers. Us neither, but we’re enjoying the VPL. We’ve been told to tell you that Joseph was shot (oof, harsh) by Hudson Wright in London’s glittering and clothing optional Palm Springs – but then who are we to do what we’re told?

There’s another velly velly nice shot of Joseph – let’s call him Joe – after the break, as well as a link to more of the same, only with slight differences. It’s like Christmas, only not.

Like, OMG! We've got the same tits!

And as promised, more ici. That’s French. You filthy cochons.

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More dolly #content:

2 comments to “We HATE ourselves in this outfit. Should’ve gone for the gold lamé.”

  1. Okay, so this is kinda spooky, but he totally has my body.

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  2. Those Speedies would surely act like a microwave. Poor little man bits.

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