How do you go from this
It is with deep regret that I have to report that The Stripper is no longer.
He has exchanged his fireman uniform for a business suit, and his fashionable slightly Mohican hairstyle has been replaced by a short brush-cut. The missing hair seems to have found its way to his face as he is now sporting a goatee, thereby disguising his gorgeous jawbone.
His beautiful baby blues are now hidden behind a pair of thin metal rimmed spectacles; not even the JT nerdy glasses that would at least retain an ounce of his hotness.
Even his year long suntan has faded and there is no evidence of a six-pack or other pumped up muscle. No siree, he has become lean and mean and no machine.
He waved and smiled at me this afternoon and instead of the usual butterflies in my stomach and ache in my groin, I felt nothing. I couldn’t even be bothered to expend any energy in smiling or waving in return. Bleh.
The ladies in the complex [ranging from the 80’s year old pensioners, down to Angel and her chums] have all met and discussed The Stripper’s unfortunate decline from resident hottie to definite nottie; and it has been unanimously decided that he be stripped …. of his title because he has clearly lost the
~ ♦ ~