Emma Bunton

I’m not a religious person, but if I was I’d get on my knees, push the open flied priest that came out of nowhere out of the way and thank the sweet baby jesus and his 12 homies for the luscious Emma Bunton.

Back when I was but a teenager, the Spice Girls came along but there was just one that stood out as one that not only had true girl power.  And as we all know the true meaning of girl power is to induce 1000 cc’s of boner.  Stat.

Now, this is what she looked like while she was in the Spice Girls, as Baby Spice.

Part of me wanted to go for the older woman of Ginger Spice, but she would have taken my soul.  Granted all the Spice Girls were and still are older women to me, but Emma Bunton made me want to use those pigtails as reigns and wonder whether or not I was going to be up for statutory afterwards.

It wouldn’t have mattered, because she was the older woman.  She could teach me a thing or two.  She could show me the naughty things she picked over the years by banging the Spice roadies.  She could take me through her slide show of lesbian tour dancer strip twister parties.  She could be a total spunk slut mistress in my bedroom and a lady in the kitchen.  She’d be baking cupcakes and then we’d get frisky because all she’d be wearing would be a short little waist apron that wouldn’t cover anything.  She’d lick my beater clean and I’d finger her bowl for all the gooey goodness.  Then she’d beg me to ice her muffin and I’d cover it liberally with my very own brand of baby spice.

Then she grew up and had a shite solo career, but that just meant that there were more videos for her to gradually wear less clothes to increase record sales.  When really all she’d be increasing is, well you know where I’m going with that.

I love it when she lays in an everyday pose on a fluffy carpet and comfy coitus chair just as some one shouts “Cheese!”. I don’t know, maybe it’s a pain in the whole.  Everytime your puerile immature and smutty blogging bit on the side is on the way over and you put on your pure crotchless black dress and sit in front of your coitus chair, a fucking paparazzi shows up.  Paparazzi bastids.

I could go on about all the things I’d like to do to Emma Bunton, but I’d be here all day because only some of them involve her being co-operative or awake.  Oh and I know I’ve made some questionable choices for the wank of the week series, and those of you who have disagreed with them have made your views known.  That’s all fair enough and respected.

But for anyone who is doubting this choice, I give you this picture:

Now if that doesn’t make you want to fiddle your flesh flute, or for the women, butter up your whisker biscuit, then I don’t know what will.

In fact I think I’ll go and burp the worm right now.

Til next week…