Bokelskere.no

He was a middle-aged chold that had never shed its baby fat, though some gifted tailor had almost succeeded in camouflaging his plump and spankable bottom. There was't a suspicion of bone in his body; his face, a zero filled with pretty miniature features, had an unused, a virginal quality; it was as if he'd been born, then expanded, his skin remaining unlined as a blown-up balloon, and his mouth, though ready for squalls and tantrums, a spoiled sweet puckering.