Best Asshole
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Best Asshole
[Source] - AMANDA Holden and Susanna Reid have the "best bums" in the world according to the Golden Ratio equation.
The Britain's Got Talent judge and Good Morning Britain presenter, both 49, have been found to have the perfect "Golden Ratio" bums by Dr Riccardo Frati who analysed the bottoms of leading celebrities.
Listen, you start throwing science, rankings, MILFs and best asses around and I'm going to be hooked. The only thing missing here is basketball and it's a must blog for me. I'm not going to sit here and fully understand the Golden Ratio. But this is what I know about it:
It comes from ancient Greeks, so it's been around forever. Apparently anything in the world can have a ratio and according to mathematics the ideal ass proportion should be 3:2:3. Got it? Neither do I. But do you care? Nope. This is about finding the best asses in the world. For this study, shout out Dr. Riccardo Frati who is 100% the horniest guy in the world, right? The perfect ratio is 3:2:3 for breast to waist to butt. I have no idea how you get 3, but again, you just want pictures.
According to this, there are 3 perfect asses.
I've blogged about her before. She's 49 from England and won Rear of the Year. Now I don't know how you prove this, but Rear of the Year and a perfect ass? Science says she wins.
I understand what we're talking about here. This is some sort of scientific breakdown. But what the fuck are we doing here? Is this thing biased or what? These are good asses, great even. But uh, Jennifer Lopez? SHAKIRA?!? A bunch of Instagram models? Sofia Vergara? I need to speak up for the male delegation and let it be known that this is not a “perfect ass. Tossing around words like “best” and “perfect” and “flawless” is ridiculous. We don't need science to tell us this. It's about optics. More importantly it's about confidence. If you have a good ass, you have a good ass. We don't need science for this.
I'd make a case that this is the most famous, arguably best ass.
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A post shared by Chivette Official (@chivetteofficial) on Mar 18, 2018 at 7:52pm PDT
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FingerRings--> SFU - Mammon Rings (Box) @ Six Feet Under MainStore
Bracelets--> Badwolf - Sten Bracelets (ADD) @ Man Cave Event
when i get bored i just give myself tattoos and take pictures with them
So.. hit me up if you need or want to be f&f.
The unfortunate sight that awaited me when I got back to my truck after the weekend. They just wanted to break something, took the relays out of the fuse box so the motor would not start.
How do I feel right now?? If I find him I would like to break one finger a week for 10 weeks, not decided if it will be a new one every time..............
my parents told me i could be anything so i became an asshole lmfao
the thrown rock was a bullseye on baldie's head.
James steps away from the keyboard and busts out the guitar for a performance of a new song, Anonymous Asshole, about those spineless cowards that post comments on internet forums - they know who they are. Scotty J on bass and Storm in stripes.
The color was pretty good on this but I liked the crisp energy of B+W, and thought I'd shift it sepia-ward just for a contrast to the red red red of Dante's lighting.
This was from the 21 April 2010 Storm and WTF? show featuring Eric McFadden and the Crazy Enough band, with guests including an amazing classical guitar player and Stephanie Smith of Kleveland.
In the right-turn lane, next to a curb painted red, and a sign that says "NO STOPPING ANY TIME." But he had his hazard lights on, so I guess it's okay.
You better hurry up before someone throws you a banana!
I'll give everyone three guesses as to who's drone is intruding in my shot. Definitely worth the 400 mile drive from Maine to get this. Fortunately, I got another shot without fuckface's drone in it, but seriously...
We have always called wasps that. They can be nasty when they want. Canon with a Sigma 105mm f2.8 macro lens at f5 ISO 320.
I want to thank each and everyone who took the time to visit my little space here on Flickr. Have a super day!
→ Hurry Hurry at The Men Jail until the 28th~!
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I drew this just now.. it's how Trump makes me feel!
I'm protecting myself with a Susan Richards (The Invisible Woman) type force field...and Trump is trying with all his might to smash thru it! 😦
Bad, bad Christmas. Wife and I both caught nasty colds in the week before Christmas. Christmas Eve, we went to the wife's brother's house for dinner. Took dyspeptic father in-law with us, and one granddaughter as well as daughter-in law in process of divorcing our son. Good food. Father-in-law had nothing to say and couldn't wait to go home. They had to force him to stay. As soon as we started eating, I felt a pain in my jaw, running from the ear down to the chin. Thought it was just a muscle cramp, but it didn't go away.
The father-in-law drove his car to our house from Fresno, as we live about midway between Fresno and Visalia, where the dinner was. Then wife and I drove f-i-l to dinner in his car. Wife's brother decides (rightfully so I guess) that 96 year old dad shouldn't be driving at night and it had begun to rain as well. (Truth is, f-i-l should not be driving at all. Ever). So, we hatch a scheme whereby I drive pops home and wife will go with daughter-in-law and granddaughter. F-i-l is not happy. So we take off with brother in law in followup vehicle so he can pick me up in Fresno and drive me the 25 miles back to Kingsburg. We get to Veteran's home where f-i-l resides, and I park his car and he goes inside. As we're leaving, I see f-i-l's parked car with the lights on. SHIT! I run back in and catch f-i-l before he has entered his room. Get the key and try to return through the building which we had entered. Doors locked. Rain starts. I'm pounding on door. Security guard shows up. I get in and run out to car in rain. Turn off lights and return key. Now I'm not only pissed off, but wet too. We get to my house, and brother-in-law let's me off. I had given my keys to the wife when we left, and she had not returned them. She hadn't come home yet (yeah, I guess she was having fun :-(). So in the rain I'm digging through a flower bed in the dark, looking for the damn stone thing that has a key in it. Would any burglar with half a brain not be able to find these things and use the key? Well, I can't find it because it's dark. Finally get in the house. Mood not good. Jaw aching.
Christmas morning it's breakfast at 7:30. Good food, but can't much enjoy as dyspeptic f-i-l is being his miserable self, and I'm in pain. Presents opened we go home and I hit the sack. That afternoon we were due to have lunch at a nice restaurant in Fresno with son, his now love, grandkids, and--you guessed it-- dyspeptic f-i-l. Once again the pain kept me from enjoying the good food. Son gives me socks for present. I note that when you stretch them out, it starts to look like an asshole. Then the obvious made itself known. It IS an asshole.
Finally home by 6 p.m. and Christmas is over. But the pain gets worse and worse and by now the right side of my face is swollen up like a rotten watermelon. Visions of root canals were pleasant compared to the other potentials. Like would I be the next Elephant Man with a football growing from my head? Oh, I was thinking the worst. Believe it. The pain got so bad that I couldn't stop shaking and became nauseous. The wife calls Kaiser advice nurse. Run through the history, and then she wants to know if I have a fever. Wife cannot find a thermometer. (It just gets better and better, doesn't it). So, seven or eight at night on Christmas Day the wife heads out the door and hits a couple of neighbor's houses. Nobody answers. I guess they were all out having fun, while I was experiencing the wrath meted out to non-believers on Christmas. Wife gets in car and drives to daughter-in-laws for thermometer. Get's back and now we get a call from the doctor in the ER at Kaiser. Fever is just 100.5. Doctor makes an appointment for me the next morning with my regular physician, and advises that if I have a fever--any fever--I'm to come in to the ER, which is 35 or so miles away. By now, I'm thinking the only way I'm moving is if someone comes in and carries my carcass out of the house. So we took a chance. The night was long, but made bearable by the powerful painkillers the wife has. Without them, I would have had no choice but the ER.
Doctor says she doesn't think it's and abscessed tooth and not a tumor. It's good to know that a tumor will generally not provide the experience of excruciating pain. And that's the good news.
Today the swelling is way down. They injected me with antibiotics, and set me on a ten day course of oral antibiotics. Still painful to touch right side of face, but I'm a very happy camper.
And this post is about the first thing I've accomplished since the whole episode began unfolding.
Hope you all had a Merry Christmas or Fabulous Festivus or whatever.
Sorry to write bummer stories at the time of year when you all are celebrating the birth of Jesus and are full of hope for 2019. But on the bright side, it all seems to be getting better. All, except a certain POTUS, which I'm trying to ignore at least until we get into the new year.
Around the globe, in every city there are parts of the neighborhood that's looking a little worse for wear. Abandoned, for one reason or another, and usually occupied by house-squatting hippies, the cool kids on the block or homeless people... And now, also, the mob. Exploiting the privacy and the opportunity to stay under radar they've got eyes on these little hidden treasures, serving as a sanctuary to be found only by those who knows it exists. -Usually right under the nose of the city residents and the police.
These properties are owned by a shell company, within another shell company that is owned by people no one's ever heard of, one of them is 'Alexander Smith', the 'accountant' of a small company which name is of little importance.
What all these houses have in common is that despite the decaying building, the doors are sealed. And can only be opened by a very specific keycard.
If you've been given this keycard, and have found one of it's matching doors. It will let you in, the inside of the building will not match the exterior, and there will be armed guards. Perhaps one, two or four. And you can be sure the working staff are armed too. They'll also want to see your keycard. - But once you're in, you're in.
-It is a neutral zone. You do not have to like all the guests but you will respect them within the premises, each and everyone of them is here because someone trusts them.
-We will not take your weapons, but be well aware that using them in here will result in a lifetime ban from the establishment and punishment will follow.
-Every patron is invited, and the one inviting you will be held responsible if you break any of the (very few) rules, and tasked with dealing out the proper punishment.
Location: Il Gheto | Speakeasy | Il Toro Mafia Club
Bar inside ARIA that I can't describe as anything other than a bunch of assholes, but at least it was pretty inside
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