I love doing TV. It's such a breakneck pace, you know. It's kiss and go with your leading man. You meet them in the morning and go right into a clinch. The filming is over before you know their last names.
Afterward, I had the last laugh. I made an air bubble at the bottom of the lake. Our friends kept waiting for us to come up, but hey-when you are the son of Poseidon, you don't have to hurry. And it was pretty much the best underwater kiss of all time.
My first on-screen kiss was lame: Nickelodeon. But my first real-life kiss was super cute and nice, but still very awkward. It was with this hot skateboarder with dreadlocks. He was my little Rasta man.
I don't see us as a big media gimmick band. We don't have a cultivated appearance or anything like Kiss.
I will find you.
In the farthest corner, I will find you.
Mary E. Pearson
And then we ease him out of that worn-out body with a kiss, and he's gone like a whisper, the easiest breath.
She is free in her wildness, she is a wanderess, a drop of free water. She knows nothing of borders and cares nothing for rules or customs. 'Time' for her isn’t something to fight against. Her life flows clean, with passion, like fresh water.
My first real kiss came when I was 10, and it was in an acting class. I had to do a scene from a movie where someone gets kissed under a tree, and I did not want to do it! But my acting partner wanted me to feel comfortable, so he bought a picnic basket with all these snacks. He made such an effort - and it was cute.
Any man who can drive safely while kissing a pretty girl is simply not giving the kiss the attention it deserves.
I know this world is far from perfect.
I am not the type to mistake a streetlight for the moon.
I know our wounds are deep as the Atlantic.
But every ocean has a shoreline
and every shoreline has a tide
that is constantly returning
to wake the songbirds in our hands,
to wake the music in our bones,
to place one fearless kiss on the mouth of that new born river
that has to run through the center of our hearts
to find its way home.
People call me Mustache, because I have an eyebrow on my upper lip. When I close my lips it’s like a wink and a kiss combined. It’s like lust overload.
The first kiss can be as terrifying as the last.
A breeze blows up, touching my cheek like a little child's kiss. It flutters a piece of paper. "Trash, out there? Must belong to one of us." We move closer, and when I reached for it, I find...... a perfect paper airplane.
Why does a man take it for granted that a girl who flirts with him wants him to kiss her - when, nine times out of ten, she only wants him to want to kiss her?
it's a smile, it's a kiss, it's a sip of wine ... it's summertime!
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