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I spent much of my life playing with balls. Real, spherical ones. The type used in sports. There was always a ball in my hand. I was, and probably still am, addicted to balls. A real, honest, live boob has its own attraction but in its hemi-sphericalness, it could never replace a ball. So, perversely, I do find these sculptures/artworks/whatevers to be strangely attractive because of their ballishness, not because of what they represent.
Eep! Does your wife know you’re gay?
Hehehehe – hasn’t got a clue – or a complaint, for that matter ;)
Well she must enjoy the way you handle balls. That’s as far as I’m going with that line…
Likewise – – –