Dear teenage girl: No, you should not send nude photos of yourself to some boy you
barely hardly know. Strange things happen when your clothes are off.
Archive for Birthday Suitable
Dear teenage girl: No, you should not send nude photos of yourself to some boy you
Rather a lot of us live alone, not that there’s anything wrong with that:
Mic just gathered some scientific research that claims living alone boosts your social skills, chills out your overactive brain, and forces you to get in touch with yourself.
Yeah, I can see some of that:
Spending time by yourself helps you value time with friends. And the time you spend with other people is all by choice, not forced.
You’re becoming the chillest person that ever was: When you live with roommates or a significant other, there’s always some sort of clamor: your roommate’s Spotify playlist, your other roommate vacuuming his bedroom for the third time this week. Not so when you’re alone. (Well, assuming your apartment is blessed with thick walls.)
Which is why I live in the middle of a largish lot and share walls with no one.
Still, this poses some additional challenges:
It’s a weird thing, not having someone double-check that you’re legally prepared for the outside world. That is on you, when you live alone. Of course, you’re probably not going to forget to wear clothes, but the thought that you could tends to cross your mind for a second. Because, technically, you could walk out of the house wearing nothing but a headband, sipping a cup of coffee, and nobody would say anything until you left the house. It’s like a childhood nightmare come true.
Two words: car keys. Fumbling around for them will make me excruciatingly aware of my condition.
“Nature hike,” they said. Those Cub Scouts had no idea what they were in for:
The troop was hiking in Torrey Pines State Beach in California last month when they “encountered some individuals who were inappropriately dressed,” according to a statement from Karl Shelton, the camping director for a San Diego chapter of the Boy Scouts of America.
You may be certain that the Scouts were diverted rather quickly after the discovery.
(Via Sophie Rolstad.)
This is a press release, of course, and like most of its ilk, it assumes that those who read it will be overly impressed by it. Include me out:
Popular nudist dating site NudistDatingSites.net recently launched a new feature named “Certified Nudist.” This feature is similar to the verification option available on most dating sites.
Translation: “We’re adding a feature that everyone else already has.”
Now this next bit seems indisputable, which is probably why it was buried in the third graf:
Whilst online dating has certainly made it convenient for users to find their ideal match from the convenience of their couch, it has also given rise to several issues. “A lot of people confuse nudism with exhibitionism. They fail to understand the core idea behind nudism and look at it as a way to find a sex partner. When such people get onto nudist dating sites, it creates inconvenience for genuine nudists,” said psychologist Pauline Brown.
I am, I admit, curious about what goes into this “verification” program, because surely it has to be more than this:
The primary motive behind the launch of this feature is to differentiate a genuine user from a scammer. In order to become a certified nudist on this website, a member would have to put up their real photo. On the other hand, if the profile belongs to a couple, both the individuals need to be present in the photograph.
This invites a couple of obvious questions:
- What’s to stop a scammer from disrobing?
- If couples are allowed on a dating site, should we assume that either swinging or polyamory are on the agenda?
Disclosure: Once upon a time, I was a member of a social network aimed at this subculture; it folded after a couple of years. They didn’t require photos, but photos were, let us say, strongly encouraged.
I wish this guy well, but I’m not especially optimistic about the prospects:
We all want friends that we can bare all to.
But for one man in Southmoor, he’s looking for that in a more literal sense.
Avid naturist John Weston, 72, is hoping that in 2015, he can some forge firm friendships with fellow enthusiasts.
He had been part of a naturist society but stopped going following the death of his wife Margaret. However, after watching the Channel Four documentary The Naked Village last month, he has been inspired to get back out there and make an appeal for fellow nudists to socialise with.
However, he’s not in a position to go seeking them out himself:
Mr Weston, who has difficulties in walking due to thrombosis, wants to establish a small community of dedicated nudists to come around his house in Southmoor, and enjoy being naked together.
Mr Weston said: “It would be great to have people to be naked with and chat to. We could go in the garden now I’ve got the gazebo.”
Note to self: Get quotes for gazebo construction.
A couple years ago, a friend of mine went to a nude beach for the first time. She thought it was wonderful, though she suspected one chap a few yards down the beach of being something of a perv.
In fact, the clothing-free community is not overly fond of pervs, or visiting pervs anyway:
Angry nudists chased down and surrounded a man they believed was secretly filming them in a naked citizens’ arrest at Adelaide’s Maslin Beach.
Police were called to the iconic nudist beach, south of Adelaide, after naked beachgoers chased down the man who was allegedly using a hidden camera concealed inside a blue esky.
George, who has been bathing unclad at Maslin Beach for the past eight years, said he was hanging out with friends on Sunday, December 21, when they noticed the man positioning his esky towards a couple.
“A couple of my friends noticed this guy rearranging his esky and one of them said ‘are there holes in the esky’ … one woman walked past and saw a video camera set up inside,” he said. “It had this wooden setup inside where he could put this little handicam and it had three or four holes where he could position this wooden frame and put the camera inside to line up with the hole.”
Now that’s pervy. Pervacious, even. (An esky, a genericized Australian brand, is one of those large rectangular picnic coolers.)
What could this fellow be wanting? To George, it was at least somewhat obvious:
“A few people have seen him before and one couple said that he had been known to upload film to a website, so it’s not just for his personal use apparently,” he said. “It’s on a website that you need a credit card to access — I’m not going to pay $30 just to see if my own arse is on there.”
Police paid the man a visit, but were unable to determine whether he was in fact photographing nudists, and let him go with a warning.
It is seldom a swell idea to antagonize visitors, though some folks can shrug it off [link NSFW]:
A few nudists I have spoken to tell me they answer their doors naked, and they have given pretty good reasons for doing it, and that I should too.
I just don’t have the nerve to do it though. I’d probably just collapse laughing if I did.
I’d like to hear some of those reasons, because I can’t think of any just now. This is not to say I’ve never done it before, but there are good reasons not to. Said I, about a year ago:
Actually, this is not an issue for me: I keep a robe by the door, just in case. (There were these two Jehovah’s Witnesses that one time, but that was years ago.) As a general rule, I am disinclined to outrage the neighbors. That said, it must also be said that there used to be a woman around the corner who in two years saw me dressed exactly once: there has always been a small number of people who have given notice, one way or another, that they won’t be perturbed at the sight. The operative word, though, is “small”: I don’t think there’s ever been more than four or five names on the list, and most people just call first so I’ll have time to feign decency.
And there’s perhaps another issue. I have developed a decent, so to speak, relationship with a pizza joint, based on (1) never ordering at inopportune moments and (2) being generous with tips. As a result, I tend to get my pizza somewhat faster than predicted at the time of ordering. I would hate to jeopardize this sweet deal by flashing the delivery person.
Now if sister Joni (1962-2003) were still around, I’d have to ask her about those reasons; she seemed to have no qualms about answering the door in whatever state she happened to be in. (She was on my list, and if she had had one, I was certainly on hers.)
There are people who boast of reaching Inbox Zero: the happy state of having no email waiting. I don’t get there very often myself. I did, however, adapt the phrase for my own nefarious purposes, since “Wardrobe Zero” is shorter than most of the euphemisms one might use for a tendency to go without clothing, and in the context of Twitter profiles, shorter is better. Besides, it’s not like I’m advertising or anything: I had a mere 79,000 Twitter impressions last month, or so says their analytics department.
And if one is inclined to let it all hang out, so to speak, one might as well admit to it:
It has been my practice over the years to be very sensitive to other people’s assumed sensitivities and to avoid surprising or even shocking some recipients, so I kept my naturist lifestyle secret. It has become obvious that this is a very silly thing to do, society has moved on, attitudes are more informed and I have found I was wrong about other people’s sensitivities; I had made the wrong assumptions. Most people who discover my lifestyle are either interested or encouraging, no-one has seemed shocked or surprised. To my delight I have found some of those I most feared would show a negative reaction have in fact been most supportive.
I am sure there are at least some people out there appalled at the thought, but I figure, at just over 300 posts on the subject out of the last 23,000, it’s not exactly something I obsess over.
The quality of exhibitionists has declined markedly of late:
Here’s where it gets pitiful:
I don’t want the hosts on nude adult cams to see me during the private shows because I really can’t risk being recognized. Is there a way for me to remain hidden?
So: (a) gutless; (b) underage; (c) gutless and underage?
After a successful trial run, a naturist club in Buckinghamshire is planning to have skinny-dipping days for the general public:
Diogenes Sun Club in Shire Lane, Chalfont St Peter, will open its heated indoor pool on Saturdays, January 10, February 21 and March 7 from 7pm to 9pm.
The club has 300 members; if they should add a few more as a result of this promotion, they’re surely not going to complain.
Pre-booking is essential at www.diogenessunclub.co.uk. Entry is £5 for adults, under 18s must be accompanied and go free.
This pool of theirs is surely a far better vessel than the clay wine jar the original Diogenes the Cynic (c. 412-323 BC) is supposed to have used for a home.
(Via Nudiarist. Exercise discretion when clicking on some of these links.)
My wife of more than 10 years has always been a bit of a nudist. Nothing public, but around the house and our pool and out in the boat she likes to be in the buff. Our son is now 6 years old and my daughter is 3. My children are being raised in the nude, the same way my wife was raised. They get home from school and their clothes come off. I come home at night to two naked kids and a naked wife. Now that our children are getting older, I think it might be time that everyone starts covering up a bit more. My wife disagrees and does not want to change. Are we doing damage to our kids here?
“Where can I find a woman like that?” </RickSpringfield>
Prudie, who once went to a “nudist colony,” a term that’s been extinct for decades, advises:
I learned at the colony that children raised to let it all hang out start wanting to cover it up once puberty hits.
I suspect this is true more often than not. However, this also works in reverse: most of the people I know who prefer to operate at Wardrobe Zero [caution: small sample] discovered that preference at just about the same time.
And you may have noticed that hubby doesn’t say whether he joins the clothing-shedding ceremony.
Francis W. Porretto gets in the final word — well, it ought to be final — on that celebrity-nude-photo business:
The “she ought to have known better” crap is exactly that: crap. The companies that promote the use of their “cloud” services are forever telling us about the depth and power of their security measures. Is a very young professional actress, highly unlikely to have been schooled in the technologies and their vulnerabilities, supposed to be more aware of the risks than the average non-technical American? If the same thing were to happen to any of her detractors, would they enjoy the degree of opprobrium that they’ve heaped upon Jennifer Lawrence? Would they feel their naivety had earned it?
And the cloud doesn’t care what its proponents say about it, either:
— InfoSec Taylor Swift (@SwiftOnSecurity) August 15, 2014
Besides, there are non-technical issues to be dealt with:
Let’s not neglect the other aspect of the matter: that Lawrence photographed herself in the nude so her boyfriend would have a sensuous reminder of her when the two of them were far from one another. There are “conservatives” reproaching her for that, too. Apparently that Lawrence would permit someone — someone other than themselves, that is — to see her in all her unclothed glory grates unbearably across their neo-Grundyish sensibilities.
This is approximately where someone comes in and completes the circle by saying “But she should have considered the risks involved.” Well, yeah. But life itself is a prolonged exercise in risk management. If you haven’t noticed this by now, you’re either 8 years old or you’ve been appointed to a high government post.
And the little dweebs who spent their data allotments for the month begging for download links for these pictures? Morally indistinguishable from the little dweebs who spent their data allotments for the month pirating software.
It’s a really good catalog, with a few howlers now and then:
The onslaught of Christmas catalogs is slowly beginning. I got two in the past 10 days from Victorian Trading Company. I love the products they sell, I love looking at the catalogs, but sometimes their descriptions are way too precious or even outright wrong. But sometimes they make me laugh. Like this one. Here’s the relevant sentence: “A number of years ago we aligned ourselves with an avid naturist who meticulously retrieves intricate web and preserves them under glass”
Yes. Naturist. (NB: very small photo of naked people — it’s a wikipedia page). And yes, I know, there is the alternate definition of the term that means “naturalist,” but if they MEAN “naturalist,” they should say it. I daresay a lot of us, when we hear “naturist,” we think of what that wikipedia page is about, first. If I am talking about someone who studies nature, I always say “naturalist.”
Which makes more sense to me. (Arkansas, the Natural State — says so on the license plates — is the one state least hospitable to naturists, though they have no problem with naturalists.)
As for the creators of those intricate web samples:
(I wouldn’t be around spiders naked on a bet. I’m not an arachnophobe but if I’m about to get in the shower and I see one in the tub, it has to go before I will get in)
I have had this happen only twice, so I can’t generalize except as follows: On my own premises, I will attempt to coax the creature to relocate itself. In a bathroom in a motel in Albuquerque, I will fetch a shoe and do my worst.
Stephen Gough, a skinny fiftysomething Brit, is known all over the UK as the Naked Rambler, having once walked the entire length of Great Britain, from Land’s End to John o’Groats, in his birthday suit, a trip that was delayed several times by unwanted attention from the legal authorities, who claimed that, well, he just couldn’t do that sort of thing; a second attempt was similarly interrupted.
There are a hardy few who think this is a great thing Gough is doing, though they doubt he’ll ever succeed:
I belong to a group of people who like Stephen believe in personal freedom and the right of us all to live as we please but the big difference is that unlike Stephen, I am not willing to give up my freedom to pursue my beliefs. If I and 1000s more had the same strength and belief as Stephen, then it would become a movement of freedom and there could be protests in pursuit of what we believe in. This is not going to happen! We are NOT going to get 1000s of naked people sitting in the streets demanding freedom. There just is not enough appetite for such action. Even if there were 1000s of people protesting on behalf of naturism, there will be far more who don’t agree and majority will win.
And Her Majesty’s Government has been shrewd enough to put Gough under an ASBO: even if he happens not to be breaking local nudity laws, which appear a bit more lax than those in the States, they can always haul him in for violating the terms of the ASBO. So they’ve got him coming and going.
Besides, hardly anyone wants anything goes, 24/7/365:
[T]here are limitations on activities even at naturists resorts. For example some people enjoy sex in the open, but they cannot do that even at Cap d’Agde which is the most advanced naturist resort I know. Those who try are subjected to the full force of the law as they would be anywhere in the world if caught in the act at a public place. The point being, we all live with certain limitations all the time, no matter where we are or who we are.
However, it is possible to do what you want in most cases if you respect others and have a balance in our life, which allows us to enjoy life and push the barrier a little at a time without declaring all-out war and suffering the consequences.
And let’s face it, this is not on the level of, say, the civil-rights movement in the US in the Fifties and Sixties: I would look silly trying to claim that my freedom is being circumscribed by not being able to traipse through the Men’s Furnishings department at Von Maur wearing only shoes and a smile. It would be nice, though, if the government didn’t spaz out if I went out that way to fetch the newspaper from the driveway.
Somehow I don’t think this will work:
Reason for the decorations:
i like going in my hot tub at night naked and recently i found out all the neighbour kids watch me and i havent been able to go out since and i was wondering if you can put barbed wire up its like all the back gardens are a strip by the house and a long parallel fence and then each seperated by another fence i want to put wire all around the fences that define my garden an i allowed to do that and if not what can i do to get rid of them
Barbed wire doesn’t do a whole lot to block anyone’s view, so we’re forced to assume that the kids are having to climb up to see. The path of least resistance here is either a taller fence or enough of a hedge to block the line of sight.
I suppose what I really want to know here is why this clod expects to have his phone seized:
Which naked woman, you ask?
I want to have Anna Nicole as my background but I fear the loss of a future gf if I start dating & she grabs my phone.
“Honey, she’s been dead for seven years!” will not help you in this case.
I admit to having once had a picture of Debbie Gibson as phone wallpaper, though she was not unclothed. (At least, not completely.) Never you mind what’s there now.
“Who will buy our watches?” asks Apple. A bunch of naked people in the UK, perhaps:
A leading British naturist, speaking on behalf of millions of unclad Britons, has welcomed the announcement of the Apple Watch and claimed the nude folk of Albion will soon be happily strapping it on.
Andrew Welch, spokesman for British Naturism (BN) and Young British Naturism (YBN), said his birthday-suited compatriots would happily don wearable technology, even if they weren’t wearing anything else.
Of course, I approve of this sort of wardrobe. But I admit I didn’t think of this angle:
[T]he primary attraction is not — as some have theorised — the fact that nudists have nowhere to carry their phones or other internet devices, but rather the fact that i- or e-Watches in general do not have built-in cameras.
Although there remains a catch:
[T]he iWatch offers the ability to control an iPhone camera remotely, meaning that nudists’ naked bits could still be targeted by pervy Apple users.
This has, undoubtedly, been the best couple of days ever for some incredibly disparate groups of people. The first group? Duh. The Cheeto-stained, white t-shirt wearing, involuntarily celibate basement dwelling males of the Internet. Up until now, if they had wanted to try to see Jennifer Lawrence naked, they had been reduced to watching X-Men: First Class frame by frame in high definition.
The other group having a field day with this? I bet you thought I was gonna say Feminists, right? Nah, too easy. It’s the Sensies… Sensies are those men who … just can’t wait to throw their full support behind any and all feminist cause, regardless of the merit (and of course, there are many, many serious and legitimate feminist causes). Sensies were the first ones this week to say “How DARE YOU!” when Redditors began posting galleries of nude photos of women that, frankly, men have been wanting to see naked for years.
“YOU VIOLATED HER PRIVACY!” Come on, this couldn’t have played out any better for dear old JLaw. She gets to show the whole world how smoking hot her body is, and yet, instead of being called a skank, she gets to be a victim.
I side with the “How DARE YOU!” guys, not so much because I have veiled feminist tendencies — I’m ultimately way too insensitive for that — but as a simple application of the Golden Rule. (To borrow a phrase, some of my neighbors are women.)
And I demur slightly on that bit about “women men have been wanting to see naked for years,” not because I question the existence of that want, but because historically men have wanted to see pretty much every available female naked, with the exception of Aunt Tillie and the girl who works the late drive-thru at Taco Bell, and I’m not so sure about her.
One of the advantages I have as a person of indifferent — or worse — appearance is that there is little or no demand for pictures of me in the altogether, though you may be certain that on those rare occasions when there was a demand, I saw to it that there was a supply.
I find it highly curious that guys, the same half of the species that collects pictures of unclad or marginally-clad actresses, might suggest that “Hey, maybe you shouldn’t do that sort of thing.” This translates, without much difficulty, into “We are assholes and cannot be trusted”; the fact that this may well be true does not impose an obligation on the starlet wishing to show off — after all, she’s not doing it for their benefit.
This is not to say that precautions should not be taken before — and after — the photo session, but you probably ought not to rely on mere technical advice:
If Computer Security people were in charge of society we'd go extinct. They'd insist sex was unsafe and no one should do it ever.
— InfoSec Taylor Swift (@SwiftOnSecurity) September 2, 2014
Well, of course it’s unsafe. Almost anything worth doing is: “Speedboats, racecars, fine shotguns, whiskey, and love are all very dangerous.”
Noted for reference: The picture source I tap most frequently, SuperiorPics, has refused to accept any of the leaked nudes, consistent with their ongoing policy, and will block any attempts to post them on their forum.
We have a clear view of the goal … acceptance of social nudism as a mainstream choice among ways to live in this country. This vision includes the ability to be nude in your home and on your property … even within view of others. It includes the ability to drive in your car nude, take your family to a nude beach or even to a grocery store nude. While everyone may have a different idea of what the future vision of nudism in America looks like we certainly want the “tent” to be large enough to include the full spectrum of living and recreating nude. The question of the strategy we use to get there is often the debate. Some accuse us of not moving fast enough, or of not recognizing that sensuality or sexuality are a part of nudism. Believe me, we recognize those realities. When and how we choose to overtly advocate for these elements to be accepted today by a public still largely unaware or understanding of our cause calls for intentionality and thoughtfulness.
Every time I think “Yeah, wouldn’t that be great?” I think about popping open the door of a frozen-food cabinet at the supermarket, which is likely to be kept around zero (-18°C). And then I think maybe I’m not quite ready for that step.
Disclosure: I have been an AANR member for nine years. I have never been to a nude beach, beaches being, shall we say, few and far between here on the prairie.
If you can drive without air conditioning, good for you. It’s my preferred way to do it. But: on very hot days cool down your car (and your body) before you put on your clothes. Otherwise your natural body heat will be caught beneath your clothes and that can feel very bad/hot.
I admit to not having thought of that.
Incidentally, if you need gas, you should probably get dressed before swiping your MasterCard through the pump reader.
(Via Nudiarist. Neither link should be considered safe for work unless you are the sysadmin or you have something on him.)
How to handle a certain delicate situation with one’s phone, explained by Jack Baruth:
Two years ago, I had the USB port on my Motorola Droid4 fail. That meant that once the battery died, I wouldn’t be able to use the phone at all, and since the battery in the Droid4 is installed with screws and a very delicate connector, I wouldn’t be able to easily change the battery for a charged one. The problem with this is that I didn’t know the USB port had failed until the phone died.
I had a $50 insurance plan that I could use to get a replacement phone. The problem was that I had a bunch of photos that a female friend had sent me on that phone. I’d been keeping them for reasons of sentimentality/laziness. Sending the phone into the insurance provider would hand over a dozen nude photos of a woman who had a professional image to protect. And since she was in my contacts, they’d have her name and contact information.
I sat down and thought about it for a while. Then I went out to my front porch and hit the phone with a Craftsman hammer until it was in little pieces. Then I went out and bought another phone.
Well done, sir. In the unlikely event that someone sends me such a photo, I will keep this available for reference.
Although I don’t believe that should disqualify him:
An 87-year old man is running for sheriff in Washington state because sometimes, as he says, letters seeking change are just not enough.
Dave Olinger of Oak Harbor, located about 90 miles northwest of Seattle, is a man of his word and convictions and, oh yeah, a nudist.
Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Heck, Joe Biden is alleged to be a skinnydipper.
Olinger’s problem with the incumbent?
Olinger, who has a political science degree from UC Berkeley, said the incumbent sheriff, Mark Brown, was running unopposed and as a Republican.
“It is a position that is not supposed to be associated with a political party,” Olinger said.
And so Sheriff Brown will be primaried. Washington State has an open primary, so Olinger’s political affiliation is not germane:
Olinger was first going to try and get on the ticket as a member of the nudist party, but later decided the Democratic Party worked just fine, he said.
“I would do a good job for the county,” he said. “I have a real chance of at least making the [general election] ticket.”
In other news, apparently there’s some sort of nudist party. I had no idea the Body Freedom Collaborative might actually hold political-party status.
Are your sheets fitted to your lifestyle? And what the heck does that mean, anyway?
There was thought-provoking news for lovers this month. It was reported that people who sleep naked have happier relationships. In a survey of 1,000 Britons, 57% of naked sleepers reported feeling “happy” in love, the most in any group. The cotton-promoting body that commissioned the study explained its findings with all the creepy gravitas of Peter Stringfellow giving a physics lecture: “Bedding can feel extremely soft against the skin, encouraging openness and intimacy between couples and ultimately increasing happiness.”
Not having heard Mr Stringfellow’s creepy gravitas before, I went dialing around YouTube and came up with a party political broadcast supporting a UKIP candidate. Comparison verified.
If this is true, not only does it mean that nocturnal nudists are happier in love, it also means that’s because they’re the kind of insatiate bonobos who become aroused at the mere caress of a flat sheet from Debenhams. I can’t help having my doubts.
After roughly, or smoothly, 45 years of sleeping in the buff, mostly unaroused, I am similarly doubtful. But I’m willing to entertain this hypothesis:
Speaking of which, surely fun is the real key to a happy relationship? Not, like, sheets, as the people who are selling sheets seem so keen to suggest. Perhaps (stay with me on this) people who sleep naked are pretty relaxed, generally quite happy with themselves. Glass-half-full types who greet a clipboard-wielding surveyor with a cheery “Of course I’ve got a few minutes to answer some questions about my sleeping habits! Nothing could be more delightful!” rather than desperately trying to avoid eye contact or pretending their mobile is ringing. Maybe such people have happy relationships, are more apt to describe them that way, and it’s nothing to do with how naked they are.
On the other hand, if you’re some cheap so-and-so who buys sheets with a thread count in the single digits, you deserve the abrasion you’re getting.
I am aware that the ability to lure women half your age into the sack is highly prized these days, at least among men my age. And while I’d be lying if I said I never thought about it, I’d be damned embarrassed if I came off like this:
We met on a dating site. Dave was interesting, gentlemanly and bright. He held my hand and toured with me on long bicycle rides. He drove many miles to come to my door. He made meals for us both and ruffled my dog’s happy head. I was enticed and longed for the full knowing of this man. And so, we planned a weekend together. That’s when things got confusing, unspoken and just-not-quite there. We went to bed in a couple’s way — unclothed and touching — all parts near. Kisses were shared and sleep came in hugs. I attempted more intimacy throughout the weekend and was deterred each time.
On Monday evening over the phone, I asked this man who had shared my bed for three nights running why we had not made love. “Your body is too wrinkly,” he said without a pause. “I have spoiled myself over the years with young woman. I just can’t get excited with you. I love your energy and your laughter. I like your head and your heart. But, I just can’t deal with your body.”
Dave is 55. Apparently he figures he’s still entitled to centerfold material. And this is what upset his applecart so:
I am a 59-year-old woman in great health and in good physical shape. I stand five-feet, nine-inches tall and weigh 135 pounds. I wear a size six in both jeans and panties, and my breasts are nowhere near my navel. In fact, they still struggle to make it full-up in a B-cup bra. My thighs are no longer velvet and my buttocks have dimples. My upper arms wobble a bit and my skin shows the marks of the sun. There is a softness around my waist that is no longer perfectly taut, and the pout of my abdomen attests to a c-section that took its bikini flatness — but gave me a son.
I should be in such shape, qualitatively speaking, at my age, which, you’ll remember, is only slightly beyond hers.
The manosphere would explain to me that Dave’s just exercising his Game, and maybe I’ll give him that. But the time to back off, I contend, is a long time before the third trip to the bedroom. And I have enough douchitude of my own to regret, thank you very much; you’re not helping.
You remember the old saying, right? “The Internet: where men are men, women are men, and children are FBI agents.” Sometimes I wonder if I remember it too well.
Accompanying Miles (Grant Shaud) on a shopping excursion, Murphy (Candice Bergen) inadvertently gets a glimpse of Miles’ “privates” as he tries on a new suit. News of this incident spreads like wildfire throughout the “FYI” office, subjecting poor Miles to a million-and-one bad jokes about his family jewels.
Twenty years later, Yahoo! Answers is awash in people all telling the same story: “OMG [individual(s)] saw me nude!” In vain will you, or will I anyway, tell them “No big deal”; they’re convinced that they are Forever Branded, and “What must they think of me?”
This fear extends even to people who routinely eschew clothing: for some — not all — there’s a compulsion to behave like choirboys, albeit sans robes, lest their reputations be shot. Even the American Association for Nude Recreation, itself occasionally viewed as hopelessly square, has acknowledged this:
[E]ven within the nudist lifestyle there are a lot of people who cannot separate the idea of being nude with the sexual act. Going from club to club, it’s truly amazing the different attitudes concerning what is sexual and what is not.
There are clubs that will not allow anyone to hold hands while being nude. There are clubs that will not allow tattoos or piercings for fear of being too sexual. At some clubs you cannot repeat an “off color” joke, no matter how funny it is. Then there are clubs that require clothing to be worn while dancing. And, of course, there are clubs that promote themselves as sexually open and have no problem with overt sexual activities. Yes, there is a third type of club that has found that balance between being overt sexually or scared to show any sexuality. The fact that you have these three different types of clubs makes it more confusing to separate the idea between being nude and having sex.
Talk to most anyone who is not a nudist and they will automatically assume that there are some sort of sexual implications associated with being a nudist. Some nudists go overboard trying to deny any sexuality with nudism.
AANR has stuck to their “family values” mantra, declaring that their clubs “foster a wholesome, nurturing environment for members and their families”. Certainly there are clubs that do indeed adhere to this strict definition, but there are many which cater to adults or couples only.
So this AANR blog post today is a first step in recognizing that the “one size fits all” idea is being consigned to the trash heap of history. Just the simple statement that some nudists “go overboard trying to deny any sexuality with nudism” is a clear indication that the days of the old guard are nearing an end.
I mean, wasn’t the whole idea of discarding your wardrobe to de-stress yourself?
Which is why the best line in that Murphy Brown episode was uttered by Corky Sherwood. Asked what was going on, she shrugged and said, “Oh, Murphy saw Miles’s wiener.” No big deal.
For nearly half a century, the Muong people of this village in Hoa Binh Province have become accustomed to the image of a naked figure in their community. She is Ms. Dinh Thi Dong, 53, who never wears clothes.
“Never” is a pretty strong word, don’t you think? But she’s not entirely insane:
Although Dong does not wear clothes, her life remains normal. Every day, she goes to work like everyone else in the village. She goes to the field to plant rice and cassava and to the river to catch fish.
Mr. Dinh Van Tan, the village chief said: “Many times I saw her going into the forest to pick firewood with clothes in her basket. She’d put them on before climbing up a tree. After gathering firewood, she’d take off the clothes again and return them to her basket. She said she wore clothes to climb trees to avoid being scratched.”
This, I understand all too well.
Oh, the weather? Not a factor, apparently:
Dong’s village is situated in the Da Bac District’s Tien Phong Commune. To meet with her, reporters had to scale dozens of steep, slippery slopes.
Mr. Khanh, the guide, explained that, even when it’s very cold, with temperatures down to 9-10 degrees Celsius, Dong does not wear anything.
Oh, come on. Ten degrees Celsius — 50° Fahrenheit — is not all that cold.
Some kind soul with a whole lot of vintage nudist photos has put up Diane Webber, a History in Pictures, dedicated to the late nudist icon (she died in 2008 at seventy-six) who apparently never encountered a lens that didn’t like her. She also posed for the occasional risqué LP jacket, like this one for Nelson Riddle in 1958, which is going down below the jump in case your workplace tends to spaz about such things:
There is such a thing as discretion. This isn’t it:
Oklahoma City police arrested a man after several children reported seeing him walking to his mailbox naked.
The fellow wasn’t exactly contrite:
When officers arrived at the scene, they spoke with the suspect, 68-year-old Hillard Stallings, at his house. Stallings told officers that he was a registered sex offender, but he refused to give them his ID.
According to the report, officers then contacted the Sex Crimes Unit, and they stated that if Stallings came outside, the officers could arrest him. However, police said Stallings was very rude and did not want to talk to the officers.
He then escalated to Pervcon 3:
About five minutes after they spoke to Stallings, the officer said he saw a 14-year-old boy standing in front of Stallings’ house, looking toward the front door.
When the officer got closer, he said he saw Stallings outside his house, “shaking his penis and thrusting his hips out” towards the boy, according to the report.
If you insist on retrieving your mail in your birthday suit, you probably need to live in an older part of town: my mail, for instance, is shoved through a slot in the garage door.
And the time to discover that you fancy 14-year-olds is not when you’re pushing seventy.