Dude, I want to sheer a black sheep, use it’s wool, and knit an afghan to curl up in those dimples with. I want to wake up, deep inside those dimples like a new-born kitten opening its eyes for the first time upon the sunlight of a chilly autumn day. I want to be protected from the cold in the flesh of those dimples like Luke Skywalker when he climbed in to that alpaca-like thingy on Tataouine. Or something.
(via img2.timeinc.net)
