Time Out for Tim: The Cy Spy

CythereaCy Spy

by Cosby & Culp

Let’s be honest: We live a fairly blessed existence around here. All in all there are not many people around that could even hope to stir pangs of jealousy. [Oh, I don’t know. I know a relatively famous Russian performer that eats super-sized at McDonald’s at least twice a week, still. She’s also 5’11" tall and weighs a “beastly” … according to her … 115 pounds. Back in her performing days in the late 1990’s it was only 110 pounds, though, so you can see why she’s so upset, right?]

But whenever MrT sends in a new batch of photos of Life with Cytherea, well, while we would not wish physical harm on anyone, a few of us here would not mind should he befall some completely non-life-threatening sort of sickness whose only effect would be to make him forget he’s married to Cy. [Better yet, he could think I am married to Cytherea, and he’s my best friend whose only purpose in life is to make sure we are both happy. He’s a big guy. A best friend like that could be handy.] We do not want him harmed in any way, obviously. The rest of us just want a turn. That sounds fair.

You see, last week a small contingency of our group headed up to San Francisco for a shoot, oddly enough staying literally at the “Hotel California” next to the Stanford campus. When we got back we discovered this latest MrT On The Cytherea Scene documentation, and you can now probably imagine how we felt. It just doesn’t seem fair. True, you could end up like the lad did in the last picture below here, but the imposition factor of that really depends on where the panties were first, right? [They also appear to be topless, so if you needed to wear one of those hats with two beer cans and a straw on it, that would probably be easier.]

Even More Risque:  The Gift of Beauty
cy spy cy spy cy spy

Before we send you off to be envious of life with Cytherea yet again, we did want to provide a little commentary for you should you have your own trip to Northern California in the near future. While certainly a fine place to rest weary bones, none of us would technically consider this “Hotel California” a “lovely place” by any means. Truth be told, all of our “livin’ it up” took place across the street with the wildly fun [and open-minded] summer school students at the college. Maybe the Eagles had a different place in mind for their song. Without knowing for certain, it seems safe to presume that more than one “Hotel California” exists in the state. Or maybe it was simply much lovelier back in 1976. [Or maybe Joe Walsh just brought an overall festive air to life. (Hotel California was the first Eagles album with Joe Walsh in the group, for all you folks out there that think 1976 qualifies as ancient history. … And if you have never heard of Joe Walsh, well, just go off and look at Cytherea while the rest of us sit around whimpering about that fact.)]

[By the way, If you ask D.Minion about this particular trip, you will quickly discover that our mini-group did not include all the “correct” people according to her … a fact completely independent of the one which saw her staying back at the office in atypical fashion, we’re sure. All in all, I wouldn’t bring up this shoot at all were I you, and you might even avoid the entire topic of Stanford Co-Eds for the foreseeable future.]

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