Even with that roach-eaten, ratty ass Where’s Waldo? hat, Jason Momoa is still a titillating hunk of pure sex. Jason strolled the farmer’s market in Los Angeles yesterday with Denise Huxtable and their kid Nakoa-Wolf Manakauapo Namakaeha Momoa. I’m going to warn you again to not say Nakoa’s full name too fast or a fucking rain cloud will appear over your head. Don’t.
The vendors at the farmer’s market must have been busting turds out of anger, because Jason’s hotness kept making the produce ripen prematurely. Tomatoes turned inside out, ears of corn popped themselves and bananas were stripping themselves down. That man could make a cucumber fuck a squash.
Lisa Bonet must be praying to Jaleesa (she really is a god) every night to give her strength, because if I was her, I’d be on that shit every second of the day. You’d have to turn the hose on me and throw a ragey possum at my ass.