ALL KINDS OF FOLDS AND TISSUE

It should come as no surprise that this blogger, while not a fan of cold weather, is not particularly comfortable during Indian Summer either. Such as we had yesterday. Which it seems is perfect for nakedness, and far too many people like to push that envelope. People whom I personally do not need to see any less clothed.

[Indian Summer in April? One day only? Well, that was probably our heatwave for the year, and it will be totally miserable for the next five or six months till autumn. But I don't want to destroy your hopes. Indian Summer sounds so much more joyous and positive than "that was it, bitches, now we freeze".]

Fortunately, they aren't taking it all off.
But they are wearing yoga pants.

Is that your cervix?

It's huge!


Ladies, the world really does not want to be your gynecologist. Most of us aren't qualified, and we're extremely likely to mis-diagnose whatever that ailment is.

Elephantiasis?


Look, this blogger is as randy and perverted as any other man, and takes delight in all manner of immorality. But only intellectually, NOT visually, unless it was requested. And never in the form of skin-tight stretchy pants on the public street when I'm shlepping home a twenty pound bag of rice (Golden Phoenix Thai Jasmine). If you really want to show me something erotic, a picture of sliced chicken cooked in red curry gravy will do very nicely, or eel stirfried with basil, green chilies, and long bean.

Rendang, next to lalap or karedok.

Something golden and coconutty, possessed of a briny aroma, perhaps from Three Crabs Premium Fish Sauce made by Viet Huong.

And, for a genuine touch of seductively mysterious allure, one or two stalks of bruised lemon grass.


Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm!


You know, there aren't that many people I wish to see en déshabillé, and certainly none of them are just casual passers-by on the street, or folks waiting for the bus. And, as you may understand upon mature reflection, such exhibitionism is always best when in private, and definitely without a large number of sweaty other humans about.

Indoors only, if you please With the shades drawn.

Only if we have gotten to know each other.

Come on up and say 'hi' sometime.

Please introduce yourself.



It is best to be naked all alone, or with just one other person, who must of course be of the gender suited to one's perverse tendencies, and of agreeable personality and appearance.

[All day today I was thinking of white cotton panties -- hipster or bikini, or somewhere in between -- with a pattern of blue flowers. The corollary would be pale blue panties with little white flowers, and perhaps white lace edging. Fresh, innocent, very tasteful.]

Until I am certain of your intelligence and your character, please don't wear those yoga pants. I'm probably not the only person out there who wanted to throw garlic and holy water at you.



AFTER WORD

The same goes triple for men. No raggedy shorts, no bare torsos, and for crapsakes stop airing those balls. Y'all are a bunch of right wanks.


Tattoos and pasty flab. How rude.




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