But clever enough to marry a woman with the ability to earn big bucks ... she'll be doing the business there long after the other stuff is just a dream. I guess most papers tend to show the most unflattering pix of her .... politicing gone mad
Bill Clinton's missus is very much the same, saw her on Trickie and Judes prog good looking woman and no mistake .... In fact that reminds me, I am not a gambler but may have a few ££ on her becoming the first female President.
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A very attractive woman goes up to the bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestures alluringly to the bartender, who comes over immediately. When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face closer to hers. When he does so, she begins to gently caress his full beard. "Are you the manager?" she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.
"Actually, no" the man replies. "Can you get him for me?" she asks. "I need to speak to him," she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair. "I'm afraid I can't", breathes the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message" she continues huskily, popping a couple of fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently. "What should I tell him?" the bartender manages to say.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Tell him", she whispers, "There is no toilet paper or hand soap in the ladies bog".
P
Bill Clinton's missus is very much the same, saw her on Trickie and Judes prog good looking woman and no mistake .... In fact that reminds me, I am not a gambler but may have a few ££ on her becoming the first female President.
-----------
A very attractive woman goes up to the bar in a quiet rural pub. She gestures alluringly to the bartender, who comes over immediately. When he arrives, she seductively signals that he should bring his face closer to hers. When he does so, she begins to gently caress his full beard. "Are you the manager?" she asks, softly stroking his face with both hands.
"Actually, no" the man replies. "Can you get him for me?" she asks. "I need to speak to him," she says, running her hands beyond his beard and into his hair. "I'm afraid I can't", breathes the bartender. "Is there anything I can do?"
"Yes, there is. I need you to give him a message" she continues huskily, popping a couple of fingers into his mouth and allowing him to suck them gently. "What should I tell him?" the bartender manages to say.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
"Tell him", she whispers, "There is no toilet paper or hand soap in the ladies bog".
P