Skinopsis

Okay, I think most of us - aside from you Sexy Grannies fans - would agree that at this point in her illustrious career no one wants to see dear, sweet Marilyn in full wet suit let alone a bikini. But you may want to see Katie Jordan or Victoria Vega in skimpy-ass, stringy bikinis shaking their money makers, getting wet and showing their goodies and that's exactly what you get here.

As for you pervy prune-juicers - If you could – please enlighten us on what this bizarro fascination is with the crusty cookie. We don't even like it when our great aunt gets too close to kiss our cheek with her shriveled, Vaseline-smeared, half-mummified lips. No matter how hard we try to be polite, we can’t help but recoil from her prickly stubble stabbing our still-youthful face and the draft of drug store brand cherry lozenges and denture cream burning our fair nose hair. So you can bet that the deflated and sagging chest-bags of a septuagenarian are not on the top of our list of tackle box-twisting material.

And that smell ... Good god man, that smell! What is it about the scent of Ben Gay and death that turns you sickies on? Personally, we’ve found that a good lubricant do not cobwebs make. And do you even realize how brittle those people are? We just hope that you carry a thorough supply of Astro-glide and a Life Alert bracelet on your dates, buddy. Because, no one wants to hear “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up!” in the midst of a good spearing ... or do you?

Whatever the case, all of you “Golden Girl” gamers can take this one piece of advice to the retirement homes or Bingo parlor or wherever you go to get tail - one bad hip can lead to some serious damage to your own geriatric-javelin. So if nothing else, stray from those wizened women that come equipped with a walker ... or an oxygen tank.

This is why we need an explanation. For all we know, you’re all just really into shuffle board, or “Wheel of Fortune” or something. Maybe you’re all archeologists or Museum curators and you’ve found an incomprehensible appreciation for fossils or antiques or something. Who are we to judge? We still jerk-off to our “Borderline-era” Madonna poster and she’s sporting more underarm hair than the collected members of DIO. At least we can all agree on bikinis, right? It’s just a question of the British Kabalah poster girl or our Detroit, Catholic girl poster. It's just that we've never heard anything about Kabalah girls' sexual promiscuity.

-- Paul James