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We’ve all done it.  The walk of shame.

Waking up the next morning and seeing someone beside you that horrifies you to your very core.  You slink out of the bed hoping not to wake the beast and then walk home, not knowing where you are.  You just know you’re getting closer to home the further away the smell of shame and disgust gets.

This is obviously what has happened to Georgie here.  She woke up beside someone who looks like Shrek’s cock and not smelling nearly as fresh.  But the crafty devil knew that she’d be sneaking out as he snored and drooled, so he hid her clothes.  I’d have done the same, so who ever you are sir, I commend you.

For if it wasn’t for that shameless and creepy action we never would have seen Georgie try to find her way home through this woods in a sheet she’d taken out of your washing basket.  Running with fear in her eyes, she stopped only to rest by this stream and wash the smelly, crusty sheet she claimed as her trophy.

Never mind Georgie, you live and learn.

This is Michelle.

There are lots of things that we like about Michelle.  We like the fact that she has great taste in sexy under garmenty things.  We like the fact that she has great taste in strappy sandally half way up the leg type dealies.  We also like the fact that she plays pool.

Why do we like these things?

Dunno really, but for any man who goes to his local snooker hall he’ll understand that the testosterone levels go through the roof whenever a woman enters.

It’s a strange thing.  Not many women enter the halls of the local snooker place, so when one does a man feels immediately out of place.  We’re taken back to our days in the community center when the boy who could pot the balls quickest got some action under the stage.

This would explain why some of us are better at getting the balls away than others.

I’m great at getting them in the pockets, but that’s only because I had a better looking mate who got the action despite not being able to hold a cue without hurting himself.  So I played pool for hours until he was finished under the stage.  Then I’d have to tell the girl that it was all over.

Politics is complicated.

We remember seeing a film a while back, quite a while back actually and it featured two actors who were completely too old to be playing the characters they were playing.

It was all wigs and funny voices and weird lingo and a rock n’roll soundtrack.

It was something of an iconic movie of its time, so some might say.

Looking back it was a bit shite really, but it did give us a word that we like to use in special occasions.

That word is SCHWING!

We think you’ll agree that it is indeed quite a fitting word to match the pictures of the stunning Lee here.

“Party on Wayne”

“Go fuck yourself Garth, I’ll be over here with Lee”

That’s our version of the new Wayne’s World movie that we’ve written.

It won’t feature Mike Myers, so that’s all you need to know to make you want to go and see it.

Lee here certainly brought out the geeky teenager in all of us here in Boobiedome.  It was schwings and uncomfortable trouser readjusting everywhere.

We didn’t even have time to ask why she’d be wearing an evening dress in a hay field.  Unless she doing the walk of shame, but we doubt Lee would ever do anything to be ashamed of, namely any of us.

Lee has everything that men love, a natural beauty.  No caked make up, no fake tan and scary nail extensions.  If you want that kind of stuff, you can go elsewhere.  There’s nothing sexier than a woman who is naturally beautiful, well actually a woman who is naturally beautiful and who poses for great pictures might come close.

Some magazines and websites will feature women who unfortunately do things to themselves that take away that beauty.

Fake tan that smudges, smells and makes them look like they rolled around in a pumpkin.  Bleach blond hair that makes them look like Worzel Gummidge.  Real men don’t want that.  If we did we’d cover a blow up doll in Marmite and go to town.  Not that we’ve ever done that, or got caught doing it by our granny and can never look her in the eye again.

That’s a walk of shame, let me tell you.

We’re rambling.

We don’t really care why she’s in a hay field in a dress like that, it just makes for a great shoot, and we’d love to see more of her around these parts.

We would make a joke about wanting to see her around other parts, but we’re above that.

Ok we’re not, but we just can’t think of a classy enough way to put it.

Thanks to Celtic Glamour.

Jenny likes to chill in the country side, among the hills and the old buildings.

Lucky for us she also likes to do that while wearing a see through nightie thingy.

Actually where Jenny is here is the actual place where Cú Chulainn rescued the Jews from Moses.  It was told in a great book.  You know the one, he turned the Shannon into green goo and slimed the Hebrew version of Peter Venkman and saved the day.  It’s an age old children’s story of love, friendship, triumph over repression and sex.

Of course the true story about Cú Chulainn is nothing like that, he wasn’t a Jew at all, nor did he slime people.

He was actually a champion crossword winner.

He once entered in the extremely hard crossword competition in a broad sheet newspaper and like totally won.  Yeah, he got IR£50 and a mention in the editorial section.  He got so much pussy that day.

Of course that’s wrong as well because he actually cheated his answers off of Google after he had used his time machine to go forward and Google the answers.

Photography courtesy of Celtic Glamour.

This here is Carrie.

Looking all very elegant with her professional hair do, her make up and her pearls, but then she went and forgot her bra.

And wouldn’t luck just have it that she would run into a photographer on her leisurely stroll in the woods?

Personally I hate it when that happens.  I mean maybe she got those pearls as a present and was just so excited that she went out to show them off?

I was in a wooded area once and gave a girl a pearl necklace, and all she did was get up to get a towel and someone caught a picture of it.

Well I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that it was the last pearl necklace she ever accepted from me.

Pity.

The same thing obviously happened to Carrie here.  Not a set of pearls in sight.

Either that or she swapped them for that bench she’s sitting on, like when Jack sold the cow for beans.

Maybe she should have traded them for something a little warmer to wear, because from the looks of things, it’s quite chilly.

Or maybe it’s the blue colour of the bench playing psychology with me.

Yeah, as if my mind is that sophisticated.

What’s better to warm up in than a hot tub?

At least we can only hope it’s a hot tub.  Can you imagine the horror is it was a cold tub and we wanted to join her?

Even the biggest and most fear inducing of manly members shrivel to nothing more than a pistachio shell at the mere thought of cold water.

Our man berries would instantly pay a visit to our adam’s apples and wouldn’t come out until we promised never to scare them like that again.

All of which would prevent us from being able to give our pearly gifts to any girl, never mind Carrie.

Crafty minx.

Photography courtesy of Celtic Glamour.

More from Irish Babes in Masks this week, and why wouldn’t we feature more from them when they give us gems like this?

It’s as if this woman is actually having phone sex with someone.

The typical pose in pink underwear.  Topless and a look of ecstasy on her face.

Either she is having some top notch phone fiddling with another hot chick (imaging her getting a heavy breathing slob like me off just isn’t appealing) or she’s just gotten a great quote on some car insurance.

Zombie cover?  Actually if the girls at my insurance company looked like that when I called I would gladly take out the zombie cover.  And a wipe clean cover for my phone.

She’s like a female Zorro with that mask on.

She’d ride into town on her trusty steed and bring an end to crime.

Actually come to think of it, I remember seeing a video once of a girl in a mask who rode a horse, or some variation on that sequence of words.

I very much doubt thought that this fine example of Irish woman would stoop so low.  After all, she hasn’t even got riding boots on.

Actually come to think of it, seeing a masked woman in riding boots is usually accompanied by a story in the News of the World where the investigating journalist makes his excuses and leaves the Madame’s lair.

More phone fun here.  She’s obviously given out her female Zorro business card with the tagline:

“If you have a problem, if no-one else can help, and if you can find her, maybe you can hire the female Zorro”

Then she’d arrive in her custom van calling everybody pitiful fools and loving when her plans come together.

Wait, that’s not Zorro….

Knight Rider?  Nope.

MacGuyver?  Not that either.

Fuck it.

Thanks to Irish Babes In Masks for the photos, and for a chance to win €150 and your own photoshoot, girls you can submit your own pictures to IBIM.  A new winner each month.

Way back when boob.ie started we featured an Irish babe by the name of Crystal.  You’ll see her first appearance for us here.

She is by far one of the most popular girls we’ve featured so far.  So it was only inevitable that she be brought back for another stint.

Here comes Crystal. Last time, the lovely Crystal featured in red shiny underwear.  We also made some outrageous claims that her name was Gaelic for “girl in red undies”.

That obviously wasn’t true because we’re pretty sure that Crystal isn’t Gaelic for anything.  On Paddy’s day we met some Americans who tried to tell us that their names were traditional Irish names and they were here to chase their roots.

We’re not the cleverist bunch of people around, but we’re pretty sure that Madison, Stacey and Chardonnay are not old Celtic names.

People make all kinds of claims on Paddy’s day.  Americans with a great great great great great great granny that once bought some black pudding from a butcher in ballynaculchie will claim to be Irish.

On the other hand, we’ll claim to be sharing a flat with Colin Farrell in the Liberties just to get some hot yanky chick back to our place and be there to console her when we tell her that Colin is off shooting another forgettable film.

We doubt that Crystal here would be that deceitful.

But we digress.  Have you noticed that she’s posing here in a graveyard?

It’s too easy to make jokes about her raising a few stiffies, but we won’t.

Mostly because that’s the only one we can come up with at the moment.  Although we could come up with things like, “Hey, there’s loads of people there with advanced rigor mortis.  We’d love to rigor her mortis.  Tee, then a little hee”.

But we won’t.

Welcome back Crystal.

Thanks to Celtic Glamour, for bring Crystal back to us, and for all the other Boob.ie Irish Babes.

Gov'ment came and took ma b'kini

This here is Danii.  One N and two I’s.  And only the bottom half of her bikini.

Can’t help but think that she’s not posing at all, but she’s actually tripped over some coral and is calling to her volleyball friend, Wilson.

That’s rubbish though.

This was taken on an Irish beach on the one Tuesday of the year that we get more than 5 minutes of sunshine.

That means that there’s not coral.  Not unless Tesco carrier bags, Dutch Gold cans and used johnnies count as coral.

Plus I can’t imagine that volleyball is overly popular in Ireland, so that wouldn’t work either.

Maybe a sliotar called Peadar.

Sorry, I’ve just been watching Cast Away on Sky.

Wiiiillllllsssooooooonnnnnn!

Laying close to the bar "The Sandy Clam"

Look at that sand, so smooth and perfect looking. It’s picturesque. The clean line of the surf meeting the sand, almost as if an artist had sculpted and manipulated it to look like that. Not a single person around to bother and interrupt nature.

No Dunnes Stores beach towels housing people trying to keep the stray grains of sand out of their home made Denny ham sandwiches.

No kids running around annoying other people. Oh, and the hot topless chick isn’t too hard on the eyes either.

Just resting my eyes

Of course all that posing and distracting eyes from the scenery can get very tiring.

Look at the poor lass, all tired and sleepy and laid out there without her top on.

All tuckered out.

I wonder if we were to sneak up and sneakily undo those sneaky little ties on her bikini bottom, would she notice they were undone when she stood up?

You try it.

We’ll keep sketch.

G’wan.

Pussy.

No wait, that’s not what we’re saying would happen, that’s what you are.

More next Boobie Tuesday.

Photography courtesy of Celtic Glamour.