I love this pose. I love the shape and contour of her body and the light ruffles on the dress. And most of all, I love that her hair has apparently sucked every last bit of color out of her surroundings.

I had someone send me an email letting me know that Susan is a realized soul. I don’t know anything about that. But I do agree that she’s divine. In a FUCKING-HOT kind of way.

Photo by Will Con. Oh, and check the gallery, because there are three new photos from the shoot that I either missed before, or he has since released.

You might notice I mixed up the sidebars a little. Just a bit of streamlining. Frankly the layout of this site is starting to make me sick.

Damn it, Susan. You KNEW I was planning on getting a buttload of work done on the site tonight, and yet you decided to post a whole bunch of new stuff to distract me. OK, you didn’t know. And OK so I’d rather be distracted. But damn it anyway.

I have three names for this new Susan photographer:

I realize there are much more revealing shots, but I like this one. If she would just leave in more of her piercings and sport a tattoo or two, this would be serious punkage. Especially this one.

Click here for the full gallery. And go visit his site.

As I was cavorting through the image galleries, somehow the word “cleavage” popped into my head. I’m not really sure why, it was just kind of out of nowhere. But pop it did, and I began wondering about the origins of the word. It’s not hard. It comes from “cleave,” meaning “to separate into two parts.” Can anyone disagree that some of Susan’s most beloved assets occur at those locations that are separating into two parts? Or any woman’s, for that matter?

Ironically, one of the first occurrences of the word “cleavage” to describe that lovely little valley on a woman’s chest appeared in a 1946 issue of Time Magazine. Back in the day, cinema had a set of rules about what is morally acceptable in a film. Even Hollywood had a “Morality Code” that was enforced by a committee. Apparently there was a gentlemanly disagreement between Hollywood and European cinema on what was more risque: cleavage or bare legs. Hollywood voted cleavage, Europe voted legs. This required an occasional re-shoot of some scenes in some boundary-pushing films that were to be screened on both continents.

So I ask the question, my fellow T&A connoiseurs, what is more morally scandalous? Which is a stupid question, because this is no longer 1946. So which is sexier? Especially on Susan?