I have flabby thighs, but fortunately my stomach covers them.
I think the quality of sexiness comes from within.
Memory that yearns to join the centre, a limb remembering the body from which it has been severed, like those bamboo thighs of the god.
I always had really long swimmer's arms. The last to totally go is always my thighs and butt, but my old body is there somewhere.
I would definitely make eggs for the rest of my life if I could.
I think the quality of sexiness comes from within. It is something that is in you or it isn't and it really doesn't have much to do with breasts or thighs or the pout of your lips.
Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I've got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs?
People say, "You're still breast-feeding, that's so generous". Generous, no! It gives me boobs and it takes my thighs away! It's sort of like natural liposuction. I'd carry on breast-feeding for the rest of my life if I could.
If he only wants you for your breasts, legs, and thighs, send him to KFC.
May your stuffing be tasty May your turkey plump, May your potatoes and gravy Have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious And your pies take the prize, And may your Thanksgiving dinner Stay off your thighs!
We've going to bring back thighs. Enough of these size zeros. Thighs, and back fat, and over-the-belt fat, it's all got to come back again, and we're the ones to do it.
The biggest reason most people fail is that they try to fix too much at once - join a gym, get out of debt, floss after meals and have thinner thighs in 30 days.
The majority of persons choose their wives with as little prudence as they eat. They see a troll with nothing else to recommend her but a pair of thighs and choice hunkers, and so smart to void their seed that they marry her at once. They imagine they can live in marvelous contentment with handsome feet and ambrosial buttocks. Most men are accredited fools shortly after they leave the womb.
[Models] have the thinnest thighs, the shiniest hair and the coolest clothes, and they're the most physically insecure women probably on the planet.
I love the whole lingerie outfit - you know, thigh-high tights and garters.
Sometimes in New York, you're walking down the street and you realize there's a girl walking in front of you whose thighs you could hit a golf ball through, and maybe that makes you depressed.
And I'll dance with you in Vienna, I'll be wearing a river's disguise. The hyacinth wild on my shoulder my mouth on the dew of your thighs. And I'll bury my soul in a scrapbook, with the photographs there and the moss. And I'll yield to the flood of your beauty, my cheap violin and my cross.
Oh, the strawberries don't taste as they used to and the thighs of women have lost their clutch!
The only bright spot in the entire evening was the presence of Kevin "Tubby" Matchwell, the eleven-year-old porker who tackled the role of Santa with a beguiling authenticity. The false beard tended to muffle his speech, but they could hear his chafing thighs all the way to the North Pole.
Confit is not something that comes to mind for summer. Usually it means duck confit, made by cooking the legs and thighs in duck fat to preserve them for winter.
or simply: