This story contains an image of voluptuous nubile feminine nudity.
If it is likely to offend please go here for a few minutes.
Right. Now that we’ve offloaded the undesireable disruptive element who are now learning about Clostridium welchii Type D, the causal organism of Pulpy Kidney disease in sheep, we are free to continue;
In 2011 Mr Google and The Bucket are friends.
It was not always so.
Last year I doubted his competence and accordingly tested him with the Bouncing Tits Examination which, to his credit, he passed with flying colours.
This year he has excelled himself.
1. He has facilitated my discovery that I have symptoms of 27 potentially terminal diseases instead of the 12 which I previously knew about.
2. Through him I am able to access attractively priced Gold Label
Porn Port which I can order online and enjoy every night after meals.
3. He has sent many people to have a look in The Bucket.
Some arrive to check out Mr Google’s Bouncing Tits Results or to learn the real truth about history.
Recently however, a throng of students, most probably the cream of the world’s budding sports physiotherapists, have arrived hungry for knowledge about;
“andrea petkovic hot”
“andrea petkovic nude”
I am now filled with guilt and remorse.
These earnest scholars have traveled all the way to this seat of learning just to study my one and only inadequate homage to Andrea.
Accordingly, I humbly apologise to all these erudite researchers for my insufficiency in not being able to quench your insatiable thirst for knowledge with a single tutorial.
Although it has been an arduous task of compilation and editorship,
I trust the following Andrea Petkovic Appendix will reinstate
The Bucket’s reputation as an intellectual journal of substance.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * *
This artwork IS NOT a depiction of Andrea Petkovic nude.
She refused all requests to pose nude for me. The young lady illustrated is simply a look-alike selected from the multitude of women who keep wandering in off the street, throwing all their clothes off in the corner, sitting down on the table and demanding to be sketched by The Bucket’s Artist-in-Residence.