The semi-refrocked defrocked (i.e. partially clothed) Bray guest-posted about adultery on Dovbear's site today, and one of our mutual readers begs me to indulge his nurse fetish.
I actually have TWO readers who are desperate that I cater to their nurse fetish.
Sweet Jesus, as they say. Sweet Jesus!
[In point of fact, I have just as little invested in Jesus sweet or otherwise as I do in the nurse fetish.]
Rabbosai, I refuse to go into any detail whatsoever about comely wenches with tight cotton panties wearing nurses' uniforms. The entire subject of shapely young ladies in short white dresses and modest little hair-caps, whether or not they are wearing thigh-high stockings, or dark hose that delineate their meaty little thighs, is not a concern to this blog, and the zesty mental image of a petite shapely Filippina perched perkily upon an operating table, naughtily smoking a cigarette in a long ivory holder, will not be mentioned here at all. Crimson pouty lips or not.
Nor will we discuss the tightness of certain uniforms over the upper torso, or the pale golden skin temptingly visible in the vee of the open collar. Small slightly plump hands at the ends of curvy arms coming out of short-sleeved tunics? Not to be spoken of.
You are reading too much into this blog. And other blogs. The Sheitel thing is not a fetish either - no matter the delicate fragrance that a well-washed sheitel may have. Please ignore the frisson some yeshiva-bocherim experience walking past the tastefull photographs of female faces in the wigshop window near Chaim Berlin. There are NO barely bar-mitzvah age males who shiver and sink to the floor of a New York city bus at the sight of a young mother pink and glowing under her Indian-hair peruque.
We are not a fetish blog. That is why we never mention Jesus either.
Odd idolatry, superstition and ignorance, and addictive fantasies are not on the menu. We are a serious blog, and discuss shwerre subjects. Yes indeed.
If you wish to talk about the shidduch crisis, Yeshivishe shprach & verter, the Mid-East, or Dutch degeneracy, this is the place. Please go ahead. Discuss. Otherwise, no im gonzen.
Mir seinen farklempt.
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PERSIMMONS AND YAUCHOI
During the day it rained, albeit not very long. Which meant trying to find an umbrella. Something I haven't needed in months. Autumn is ...
26 comments:
Methinks the blogger doth protest too much.
Oooooooooo!
I'm melting, I'm melting.
Thank you, bad man.
The melter was me. Of course.
Lev
If there had been a nurse at MY bar mitzvah, it would have enlivened the proceedings immeasurably. A petite Filippina with pouty crimson lips would have put some truth into the declaration "today I am a man".
Instead, pimply Esther. And I am pretty certain that she was not anal-retentive.
Lev
I'm still melting. An ivory cigarette holder, you say? Oooooo.
That was not me. I have no idea who it is.
Lev
Oh, and another 'ooooooo!'.
For good measure.
Not Lev
OK, I feel reasonably certain at this point that Lev and Not Lev are one and the same; also, I'm pretty sure about who BOTH of you are.
I call "Shenanigans" on all three of you.
You're probably right on Lev and Not Lev being the same person. But I doubt that it is an 'all three' situation.
I'm guessing that Lev is either a Bay Area lawyer or a snarky toy-seller in New York. Or possibly a Dovbear reader who does not want his chavruso to know he reads something so utterly outside the parsha.
Heh. You're both wrong. But my brother is a lawyer and you've worked with his wife.
I believe that you are the pipe-smoking degenerate with a beard in the fifth cubicle near the blond airhead.
Lev
What!?!
Yes, we have airheads and blondes. No, we do not have rows of more than three cubicles. And I am not a degenerate.
You may be confusing me some other middle-aged pervert.
It is very possible that neither the ursine blogger nor his seminude guest Bray are into nurses. Or school girls.
One of them is into bears (and thus might prefer your post about the old lady), and the other is on the bear and into badgers.
A pile of furry freaks. You too.
---Grant Patel
FUR IS MURDER!
FUR IS MURDER!
No no no! Fur is sex. Trust me on this. Soft, smooth, delightful to the touch...... a fitting contrast to the silky thigh-skin of a young lady. Fur is ...... heaven.
Fake fur is murder. Get it right.
I don't have a beard.
You should. Women like men with beards. Long, thick, furry beards. The softest hair, the distinguished touch of salt and pepper, the smooth sexy peyes along the side, leading the slender feminine touch up and into the scalp hair, under the velvet kippah, and over the nice round skull. Stroke, stroke, and pant.
Oop. Sorry. Perversion. I think I need to soak in a mikvah now.
Oh wait. This post is all about perversion.
Plus a fur fetish and a sheitels fetish. No wonder you're not married. Yopur own personal shidduch crisis.
Less viagra, more cold showers. Yes, you really should sit in a cold mikva.
Lev
Speaking as one who doesn't indulge in pipe tobacco, and isn't really that interested, a question presents itself: are there any tobaccoes out there that smell like schoolgirls?
I am entirely not interested in tobaccos that smell of sheitel. Not only does the terms sound sheity, but it probably smells of burning penguins too.
I will not buy this tobacconist, it is scratched.
You're a loony. It's people like you what cause unrest.
Am I alone in finding "Erice (nee Eric) the Rabid Tobacconist" to be somewhat spurious?
That is entirely correct - I am half bee. And that cannot be legal - I am an invalid entity.
A one... two...
A one... two... three... four...!
Half a bee philosophically,
Must ipso facto half not be.
But half the bee has got to be
Vis a vis its entity. Do you see?
I am a freak from a menagerie.
Semi-carnally.
One of you is a gorilla.
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