Thou are not , mine ass — without buttress — worthy of praises high ; miracle sublime ! What trick is this ?  Molded between those fibers , black – jean , glory transpires ; ass trod  out , and shock the world : juicilicious , taut , marble !  Who bequeathed our race those holy , gilded cheeks ? Immaculate folly , to … Continue reading Ode to My Butt in These Jeans by G.R. Tomaini