For some of your asses, it’s your first day back in cubicle purgatory after a long weekend of lying gut down on your sofa while sucking down a post-Christmas daiquiri (ingredients: leftover Christmas candy of all kinds, the cheap wine your cheap uncle brought to dinner and the perfume from The Dollar Tree that your cheap uncle’s wife gave you as a gift) through a straw, so maybe these pictures of some Iglesias nipples will help to soothe your third hangover of 2012. If you’re thinking to yourself, “But Michael, I like my Iglesias nipples well-aged and seasoned. Dáme Julio!”, then I just have to say, “MOM! Put down your iPad and let’s never subliminally speak about Iglesias nipples again.”
Whenever I think of Enrique, I think of that beautiful brown face dingle that a possum gnawed off a few years ago after he spread a little queso on it. I still miss that succulent face nipple. I hope he kept it. Actually, since Enrique always goes on about his hamster peen, I hope he attached that mole to the end of his toddler dick to give him more girth. Enrique is mole-ed for Anna Kournikova’s pleasure.