Usually raggedy beards don’t give me the tingles, but there’s something about Sting’s facial pubes that is rubbing me the right way. It could have something to do with the sink full of greasy pots and pans that I’ve been avoiding all day. I obviously need Sting’s Brillo pad beard in my life right now. Sting would just have to stick his head in my sink and shake shake shaaaaaake.
Here’s Sting looking like the sessiest hobo on the beach in Rio the other day. You know you’d put your coin in his cup. I don’t know what that means, but if you read it while shimmying your titties it sort of sounds sexy (not really).