Find someone you love and hug them tight.
Paging Suey Park
https://twitter.com/KenJennings/status/453021424811130880
https://twitter.com/KenJennings/status/453021424811130880
god bless walt disney and all mickey's survivors
RIP i really liked him in Sin City and The Wrestler ;_;
getfiscal posted:Find someone you love and hug them tight.
but the only person i ever loved was Mickey Rooney
i'm glad its not rooney mara hahaha! she's fine!!! she's a babe!!!
anywho i didnt even know there was a sim city movie and i sure as hell didnt watch it. dont watch movies, prefer to game
anywho i didnt even know there was a sim city movie and i sure as hell didnt watch it. dont watch movies, prefer to game
RIP
RIP
epic custom colors. for the win.
good thing he didnt win the election or president sara palin would be starting a war with russia right now lol
more like too bad
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Lana Turner wasn’t the kind of girl who had much to say or had to say much. Her body said it all, and I got the message, loud and clear. Her auburn locks, her deep green eyes, her long lashes, the tip of her nose, her pouty lips, her graceful throat, the curve of her shoulders, her tiny waste, and, yes, the nicest knockers I have ever seen. When I first saw her at the malt shop on Highland Avenue, she was not wearing a tight pink sweater; this was before her Hollywood handlers put her in sweaters—and I thought, Here is a woman.
My fantasies about her soon came true. When I asked her to go out with me, she said yes. And I soon found out that she was as oversexed as I was, warm, passionate, soft, and moist in interesting places. You may wonder what she saw in me. I don’t know. You’d have to ask her. I do know that on a dance floor I could make her breathless. (98)
My fantasies about her soon came true. When I asked her to go out with me, she said yes. And I soon found out that she was as oversexed as I was, warm, passionate, soft, and moist in interesting places. You may wonder what she saw in me. I don’t know. You’d have to ask her. I do know that on a dance floor I could make her breathless. (98)
Oh, we told ourselves that we were very much in love, and our sex life helped us in that particular piece of self-deception. Once Ava got into the spirit of things, she wanted to do it all the time. And she quickly learned what it was that turned me on about her. Let me count the ways: a smoldering look, a laugh, a tear, kicking off her shoes as soon as she got in the house, getting all dolled up, not getting all dolled up, coming down to breakfast in a pair of shorts—and no top at all. In bed, let’s just say that Ava was…well, she had this little rosebud down there at the center of her femininity that seemed to have a life of its own. I am not talking about muscles. One gal I knew had trained her muscles, so that she could snap carrots in her pussy, not hands. But Ava had something different. She had this little extra—it was almost like a little warm mouth—that would reach up and grab me and take me in and make my, uh, my heart swell. She also had big brown nipples, which, when she was aroused, stood out like some double-long golden California raisins. And I sucked those warm breasts, I did taste her mother’s milk.
We were both athletic in bed, and pretty verbal, too. Once Ava lost her Southern reticence, she seemed to enjoy using the f-word. And I didn’t mind a bit, when, for example, she would look me straight in the eye, raise a provocative eyebrow, and say, “Let’s fuck, Mickey. Now.” Some years later, Hedda Hopper would say of Ava, “That girl was made to love and be loved.” I had to agree with that judgment.
…………………………………………….
Around midnight, she flounced out and drove herself home. About three in the morning, I slipped in to bed, apologizing to Ava and stroking the back of her neck, something she always loved. She became aroused and soon we were in passionate embrace. Afterward, she slipped out of bed, then turned to me as I lay there luxuriating in the good feelings, watching her. Shew as nude and glowing. She was never more beautiful. But then she surprised me with a snarl: “Listen, you son of a bitch,” she said, “If you knock me up, I’ll kill you.” Then she ran for the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it.
We were both athletic in bed, and pretty verbal, too. Once Ava lost her Southern reticence, she seemed to enjoy using the f-word. And I didn’t mind a bit, when, for example, she would look me straight in the eye, raise a provocative eyebrow, and say, “Let’s fuck, Mickey. Now.” Some years later, Hedda Hopper would say of Ava, “That girl was made to love and be loved.” I had to agree with that judgment.
…………………………………………….
Around midnight, she flounced out and drove herself home. About three in the morning, I slipped in to bed, apologizing to Ava and stroking the back of her neck, something she always loved. She became aroused and soon we were in passionate embrace. Afterward, she slipped out of bed, then turned to me as I lay there luxuriating in the good feelings, watching her. Shew as nude and glowing. She was never more beautiful. But then she surprised me with a snarl: “Listen, you son of a bitch,” she said, “If you knock me up, I’ll kill you.” Then she ran for the bathroom, slammed the door, and locked it.
the autobiography of mickey rooney as told to john christy
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