All right, apologies for that awful April Fool’s joke in the previous post. To make up for it, here’s a practically-full-frontal look at my junk (which most people have seen through careful perusing of the Archives here anyway.) What a difference a few cotton fibers make, but what is the real difference anyway? Long have I battled with the notion of exposure, over-exposure, and under-exposure, but why does it really matter? We’re all born naked, and underneath our clothes we’re all still naked. Deal with it.
From the moment I mooned a car at the Dan Dee Donuts as a seven-year-old (to the horror and amusement of my brother) I’ve never had a hang-up with nudity. Clearly, that continues to this day, even if the moonings go worldwide.
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