Archive for Birthday Suitable

Salami hiding

Not surprisingly, they’re looking for him:

Thanks to tips from the public, Dallas police say they have identified an indecent exposure suspect who allegedly exposed himself in front of the victim and began masturbating twice in two days this week.

Now they’re asking the public if they know where the alleged suspect, Jibril Salami, is hiding.

At the very least, this guy needs to get a grip.

(With thanks to Kris Wood.)

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Discretion: minimal

I’m not saying I never did any of these things, but I haven’t had any visits from law enforcement either:

A rural Litchfield [Minnesota] man has been sentenced to two years of supervised probation and ordered to build a fence after neighbors say they saw him doing chores and sunbathing outdoors while nude.

According to court documents, from last May 25 to July 12, witnesses say they saw Larry Fiero, 59, sunbathing nude on his deck, picking up sticks while only wearing work boots, riding a lawn mower and bringing his garbage can to the road while completely nude. He was also charged again after washing his car naked in October.

His plea bargain, such as it is, also requires him to undergo psychological evaluation.

I do think he was wise to wear the work boots while picking up sticks; during an operation of that sort, you can’t always be sure what you’re stepping in.

(Via Breaking Shame.)

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In the allegedly Natural State

There are no naturist facilities in Arkansas, and under current law, there never can be:

Under Arkansas criminal statute §5-68-204, the state’s 59-year-old anti-nudism law, it is illegal for any “person, club, camp, corporation, partnership, association or organization to advocate, demonstrate, or promote nudism.”

If this tale is to be believed, that measure was passed out of pure spite:

On January 26, 1957, a man was arrested for being nude with friends ON HIS OWN PROPERTY. Not only was the property privately owned, it was in a remote area and fenced in. This shows he was going out of his way to ensure privacy for himself and his guests, and to ensure others would not be offended. Nonetheless, the Attorney General claimed the incident constituted “indecent exposure”. Fortunately, the man could not be charged because the indecent exposure law did not apply to an enclosed area on private property.

However, as a result of this incident, Arkansas legislators (unable to tolerate choices they did not agree with) decided it was better to criminalize First Amendment rights than to tolerate a form of recreation they did not understand.

Violations of this law are considered a Class A misdemeanor and are punishable by a $2,500 fine and up to a year in jail. And wearing an orange jumpsuit, perhaps.

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What’s fappening now

The guy who stole all those nude photos of celebrities is pleading guilty:

Ryan Collins, a 36-year-old from Lancaster, Pennsylvania, will plead guilty in the theft of female celebrities’ nude photos.

Collins is charged with felony computer hacking and unauthorized access of a protected computer, which are illegal under the Computer Fraud and Abuse Act.

From November 2012 to September 2014, Collins used a phishing scheme to collect personal account information. Collins sent emails imitating the help desks at Apple or Google and collected the victims’ usernames and passwords. From there, he accessed at least 72 email accounts and 50 iCloud accounts, where he stole personal information and photos.

The case drew wide attention in 2014 after nude photos of celebrities, including Lea Michele and Jennifer Lawrence, appeared on Reddit, 4chan and other online forums.

We know what J-Law thinks about this:

“It is not a scandal. It is a sex crime. It is a sexual violation. It’s disgusting. The law needs to be changed, and we need to change. That’s why these Web sites are responsible. Just the fact that somebody can be sexually exploited and violated, and the first thought that crosses somebody’s mind is to make a profit from it. It’s so beyond me. I just can’t imagine being that detached from humanity. I can’t imagine being that thoughtless and careless and so empty inside.”

Prosecutors have recommended 18 months in the slammer for Collins; nothing, of course, will happen to any of those Web sites.

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Fark blurb of the week

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Ol’ Bacon Hair is back

So I was thumbing through Tumblr pics on the general theme of “Happy and Vaguely Artistic Nudes,” and suddenly I was propelled through time and space to a body of water not far from Canterlot High.

I mean, is this, or is this not, Sunset Shimmer?

Cropped section of nude photo that looks vaguely like Sunset Shimmer of Equestria Girls

This is the full-jaybird version, probably not safe for work, and definitely not safe for work if you scroll down to the “More You Might Like” section.

I’m going to have to start watching for Sonata Dusk.

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More of the pre-post-Hef era

You already know what I think of the new, somewhat more buttoned up Playboy. Vice asked some collectors what they think, and, well, what you see is what you get:

“Whether it’s desperation or not, I don’t think it’s a great move because you expect nudity in Playboy. Now, maybe parameters need to be clear because I understand Playboy Brazil and Germany are keeping the nudity. Without the nudity you could argue it’s like French fries without ketchup. There’s a magazine here, Horse and Hound, you’re not just going to call it Hound magazine. People expect it.”

There are, I must point out, people who dip their fries in mayonnaise, and I’m not the one to tell them they’re wrong. (They are wrong, of course, but I’m not the one to tell them that.)

“I feel that it’s time at this cultural moment. The value of the magazine was never entirely about the nudity; it was always a major part of it, you know, founded to be that. But the way that things have evolved, with print giving way to digital, it’s the time to make that transition if you’re going to make it at all. And there’s enough merit in the magazine over the years to make it possible. The new editorial direction they’ve taken in the last couple of years has been a lot more progressive. I stopped my subscription in the 90s, but now I sort of wish I was still a subscriber. During Hefner’s Viagra years, it was sort of like, Jesus Christ. But now it’s a home for a lot of good, progressive writing.”

You can get a lot of bad progressive writing for a whole lot less than $7.99 a copy.

“Good for them. Not having to take your clothes off to get somewhere in LA? That’s great. One more reason not to take your clothes off to get somewhere.”

And if it were really an integral part of the star-making machinery, we’d remember more than a handful of the Playmates’ names, wouldn’t we?

Not sure how many issues the last two collectors have, but that first guy, the one who knows Horse and Hound, has 866, which implies the presence of a few duplicates, the magazine being only 63 years old and now down to ten issues a year. (Before you ask: I have just over 400.)

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The pre-post-Hef era

I have now seen the first issue of Playboy 2.0 — technically, Volume 63, Number 2 — and there are three conclusions to be drawn:

  1. Looks a lot like Maxim.
  2. Looks a whole lot like Maxim.
  3. Looks so much like Maxim that I wouldn’t be surprised if Maxim sued.

Seriously. Not only has Playboy installed the larger page size Maxim implemented last year, the House That Hef Built has also shifted the emphasis, Maxim-like, toward more guy gadgets and stuff and away from female bits: more AT&T, less TT&A. Most of the magazine’s most enduring, if occasionally least endearing, columns have been swept away: I won’t miss the Party Jokes, and the opposing “Men” and “Women” pages have been declining for years, though I did enjoy “Raw Data” and I truly regret the passing of the Playboy Advisor. (The Advisor, at least, seems to be available on the Web.)

On an almost-positive note, the Playmate Data Sheet is no longer called that, and is no longer rendered in the young lady’s handwriting, but it does offer some social-media contacts. (Follow Miss March 2016 on Twitter at @dreelovechild.) And photo director Rebecca H. Black, who has presided over recent improvements in the product imaging, remains.

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Not so much shade

Two things happened yesterday: I contracted to have dead tree stuff removed from the back yard, in the interest of making it a more pleasant place to soak up the sun once temperatures get less wintry, and the AANR Bulletin arrived in the mail, with a cover story about drones.

Drones? Drones:

Since [the] Supreme Court’s 1946 decision (United States v. Causby), it has been generally accepted that the property rights of a homeowner end 83 feet above the ground — the height of an eight-story building. In a world of drones with telephoto lenses, this ruling now seems useless for protecting our privacy rights.

This decision held:

Cujus est solum ejus est usque ad coelum et ad inferos (“Whoever owns the soil, it is theirs, all the way to Heaven and all the way to Hell”) has no legal authority in the United States when pertaining to the sky. A man does not have control and ownership over the airspace of their property except within reasonable limits to utilize their property. Airspace above a set minimum height is property of the Masses and no one man can accuse airplanes or other such craft within of trespassing on what they own.

Then again, Google Street View can catch you even without going airborne.

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Parental junk

I’m not quite sure where I stand on this issue:

Another passionate debate between parents. The two distinct camps sound roughly like this:

“I am totally comfortable with my body and want my child to learn that humans are perfect and beautiful just as nature made them.”

The other camp says:

“Kids don’t need to see that shit.”

For the most part, my kids didn’t see it: there wasn’t a whole lot of that in the nuclear-family stage. And when the grownups went their separate ways:

You may be one of those nudists carrying a towel around so as not to leave a personal print on leather furniture, or the three layer cover up type of parent, but either way take comfort in the fact that somebody is horrified by your choice.

You have to wonder how Type A and Type B ever lived together in the first place. (Heck, they can’t even agree on what TV shows to watch.)

This much I can tell you: I keep a stack of towels just off the living room. Not once have the kids asked what they were for. God forbid one of the grandchildren should bring it up.

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Nose-free

These have been around a while, but this is the first time I’ve seen them pitched specifically to this market:

Support toward the outside, not so much pressure in the center. What’s not to love?

Well, maybe this:

We all tend to underestimate the danger from old-fashioned, familiar technologies, particularly when the effects aren’t immediately obvious. Young athletes focus on victory today, not the future damage to their bodies. And if the winner of the Tour de France doesn’t ride a no-nose saddle, then neither will riders who want to look like him.

Perhaps it will meet greater acceptance in non-competitive activities, such as the World Naked Bike Ride (hence the #wnbr hashtag). Lady G’s own bicycle, last I looked, still had a traditional saddle.

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Nothing up my sleeve

Blood donation sticker from AANRThis is, of course, due to the fact that I have no actual sleeves at the moment.

I received the following this week in email from the American Association for Nude Recreation:

The AANR home office will be hosting a blood drive on January 29, 2016, from 10:00 a.m. to 4:00 p.m. at the AANR office in Kissimmee, Florida. AANR invites everyone in the area to stop by, donate, and meet its staff.

While January is National Blood Donor Month, you can support the thousands of people in need of blood daily, any time of the year. Let’s show AANRs support and help save a life one nudist at a time.

A nice, public-spirited thing to do, and it’s not like the staff goes to work in the nude. At least, I don’t think they do. I’ve never visited the home office, and you can’t assume anything from occasional pictures in AANR’s Bulletin.

That said, if you’d like to swap a pint for a rather unique sticker, it’s 1703 North Main Street, Suite E, Kissimmee, Florida 34744.

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Oh, sure, blame the booze

Several bad choices seem to have affected this outcome:

A naked man accused of driving 110 mph across Alligator Alley with three female passengers was arrested Saturday afternoon on a DUI charge, the Florida Highway Patrol reported.

Around 3 p.m., authorities began receiving calls of a Cadillac driving recklessly, on and off the road, near the middle of Alligator Alley, according to an arrest report. About 10 minutes later, an FHP trooper spotted the car as it traveled west toward the Naples area.

First problem: if you’re at the wheel and your clothing is somewhere else, your first order of business is to avoid attracting the attention of the police. Driving 110 in a 70 zone does not meet this standard.

The trooper stopped the car. He noticed the driver had no shirt on and an open 12-pack of Corona beer between the driver’s seat and the front passenger seat, reports said. He asked the driver, Noe Dejesus, 33, to step out of the car.

When Dejesus opened the door, the trooper saw he was naked, reports said.

Dejesus smelled of alcohol, slurred his speech and had bloodshot eyes, reports said. When he stepped out of the vehicle to put his pants on, he stumbled and nearly fell. Inside the car the trooper found several empty or nearly empty beer bottles and a nearly empty bottle of Crown Royal whiskey.

Second problem: if you absolutely, positively have to drive while half in the bag, you definitely don’t want to be toting around a large quantity of empty containers. It just looks bad.

Still, what I want to know is how this guy managed to get three female passengers, something I’ve never done even when clothed and/or sober.

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Which should save on vestments

A new Bishop in the Church of England is, among other things, an advocate for naturism:

The Church of England has appointed as Bishop of Sherborne a leading advocate of Christian nudism. On 26 Nov 2015 the Prime Minister’s Office announced the The Queen had approved the nomination of the Ven[erable] Karen Gorham, the Archdeacon of Buckingham, to the Suffragan See of Sherborne in the diocese of Salisbury in succession to the Rt Rev. Graham Kings.

The new Bishop of Sherborne, who will be consecrated in February at Westminster Abbey, has urged churches to educate their members on naturism, or nudism. “There is need for much education and openness to talk about issues of sexuality, to remove false taboos which we tend to have about our own bodies, and to define the differences between what is impure and what is godly and properly natural to us,” she wrote in Naturism and Christianity: Are they compatible?

Although there may be a hint of “Do as I say, not as I do”:

The back cover of the 2000 pamphlet on Christian Naturism released by Grove Books she co-authored with David Leal notes Miss Gorham was not a practicing naturist at the time of publication, but “Karen knows and supports many naturists.”

Fortunately, one doesn’t need much practice for this, um, practice.

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And now you dress for dinner

No one is saying why, exactly, but the Terra Cotta Inn, a clothing-optional resort in Palm Springs, California, was sold last week and will be reimaged by its new owners as a “textile venue.”

I find this at least somewhat perturbing, not so much that I wanted that badly to go there — like most nudist facilities, they’d much rather deal with couples than with singles, and it’s not like I’d have had much chance of getting someone to go with me — but that management went full-tilt social, even encouraging the distribution of photos of owner Tom Mulhall’s lovely wife Mary-Clare in her usual work outfit (nothing), and it apparently wasn’t enough to sustain the place.

Perhaps this is inevitable. Younger nudists, we are told, aren’t looking for established resorts; they’re looking to create their own spaces. Membership in the two major organizations is on the decline, and it’s not like there’s anything surprising about people not wishing to be officially identified as running around naked; disaffiliation has a lot to recommend it in this age of Not Much Privacy.

If nothing else, this will likely shorten up my Twitter timeline, which has been running about four to five percent nudist content for the last couple of years. And more than once I’ve had to assure folks that yes, the pictures are appreciated, but I’m following you because I want to hear what you have to say.

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No bewbage on the Front Range

Fort Collins, Colorado, a few days back, was considering a change to a city ordinance that would permit women to appear topless in public. They are no longer considering it [warning: autostart video]:

The Fort Collins City Council voted late Tuesday to reject a proposal that would have allowed women to go naked in public from the waist up.

Brittany Hoagland, an activist with Go Topless, had pushed to change the city code banning bare breasts in public, but at the packed meeting, supporters of the idea were far outnumbered by opponents.

Many residents who spoke during the lengthy public-comment period said they were flabbergasted to find the council debating the matter.

I did find this one argument, um, interesting:

At least one person believed that a topless policy would lead to an increase in car accidents.

If the drivers in Colorado are as easily distracted as those in Oklahoma, I think this would be highly likely.

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Presumably no one will use jelly

And it won’t be happening in this town, you may be reasonably certain:

Miley Cyrus and the Flaming Lips are hitting the road next month and — according to an Instagram post by Lips frontman Wayne Coyne — they’re planning one show with the performers and audience appearing completely in the nude.

Doffing the duds is old news for both Cyrus and Coyne, but audience participation has been nonexistent so far.

And this appears to be Miley’s idea:

According to his post on Thursday, Cyrus is planning a show where she, the Flaming Lips and the audience are all completely naked and where “white stuff that looks like milk” will be “spewed” everywhere. The concept is for a video, he continued, for the song “Milky Milky Milk.”

Can I get an “Ew”?

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Meanwhile on the Front Range

Fort Collins, the fourth-largest city in Colorado (population 150,000 or so), is contemplating the possibility that the presence of topless women in public will not be the end of the world as we know it:

Following a request from a group of citizens, city officials said they are considering updating the existing public nudity ordinance, which currently does not allow women to be topless in public.

On Oct. 20, the city council will consider two updates to the ordinance: Maintain the current policy that does not allow for women to be topless in public except for breastfeeding mothers, or allow women to be topless in public.

The ordinance still would prohibit any nudity from the waist down by anyone 10 years old and older. Exceptions include medical emergencies, performance venues and changing areas.

Shirtless guys, of course, will continue to go unmonitored by the law no matter what.

(Via Felicity Jones.)

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Dystargeted marketing

This was waiting for me on TweetDeck yesterday morning:

Follow message from @yawn

I have to admit, they do have a pretty nice product line of nightwear for women, though I really can’t imagine any circumstances under which I’d buy any, being (1) not a woman and (2) disinclined to wear anything to bed for the last half-century or so.

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Drop ’em at the door

I can go along with most of this:

I love being naked. If I’m home and no one is over, chances are I’m naked or wearing one of my fabulous robes (I have five!). I sleep naked every night and practice yoga naked every morning. Now don’t get me wrong, I’m not practicing Rockette high kicks naked in the living room or sitting my bare butt on all the surfaces in the house or anything. I really just feel 100 percent more free when I am naked or in a sassy robe.

When I get home I like to drop my clothes immediately. Sometimes I wonder if my neighbors know that five seconds after I close my door I transform into a naked wood nymph. (Don’t Google that in a coffee shop, trust me on this one.) When I get home and undress it feels like I am shedding the entire day. I get to let go of the highs and the lows and just breathe in the moment. I’m able to cast off all the pressure to be someone I’m not to please others. I’m just left with my thoughts, my feelings, my body and my breath.

I’d bet she has towels scattered about the house to park said bare butt upon. It’s a lot easier to wash a load of towels than to spot-clean the upholstery on a regular basis.

I have, alas, only two robes, one of which is destined for ragdom and neither of which are exactly fabulous. I held onto the former long past its expiration date, simply because once upon a time my ex said something moderately risqué about it, the sort of thing I’d never heard her say before, and haven’t since. The other is what I will have on when I greet you at the door, unless, um, other arrangements have been made.

I sent “naked wood nymph” through Bing, on which I have the security set at “Westboro Baptist,” and got some highly amusing pixellated pictures, some of which link to things I’d just as soon not link to. Then again, I never was particularly into wood nymphs no matter what their, um, bark.

Tangential: While trying to find an alternative to “bark” in the preceding sentence, I struck this bit of gold on Wikipedia: “Although the bark functions as a protective barrier, it is itself attacked by boring insects such as beetles.” I imagined a semi-anthropomorphized beetle, standing on its hind legs, wagging one of the front ones at me: “I am not boring!” Perhaps I don’t drink enough.

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Moon over Surlywood

Two conflicting urges here. I did want to get some sort of photographic record of the Big Fricking Bloody Moon Eclipse Thing while it was live; on the other hand, I have enough Sixties hippie left over inside me to insist that astronomical phenomena should be enjoyed in one’s most natural state.

Resolved, of course. Shot just over my roof, this is the Big Fricking Bloody Moon Eclipse Thing, and apparently nobody noticed the unclothed chap standing on his driveway — which is amazing, given my lack of suntan and consequent monstrously high albedo.

Super Blood Moon 2015

A somewhat embiggened version resides on Flickr for the moment.

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Slightly less nude

We are fans of Stuart Weitzman’s deliciously insubstantial “Nudist” shoes, though admittedly we’re not likely to see them often in the circles in which we usually travel. This year there’s a variation on the theme with the name “Nudistsong”, sporting a couple new colors and a slightly lower heel (3¾ inches).

Nudistsong by Stuart Weitzman

The price is not even slightly lower, at $398. If you want this look but want to hold on to more of your hard-earned cash, listen up to Cristina:

Although there have been a vast array of less expensive “nudist” copycats around, the knock-off sandal style that comes the absolute closest to Weitzman’s more expensive version, is Steve Madden’s “Stecy”. Not surprising, really, as Madden could easily be crowned King of designer shoe knock-offs (well, maybe? possibly? second to Jeffrey Campbell?). The Madden brand is really, really good at their unrelentless copying (see its take on Brian Atwood here!), which is more than evident with the outcome of the “Stecy”. Online reviews of Madden’s $80, more affordable shoe version have been mixed, as it seems to fit a slimmer foot & ankle, which from what I understand is a close fit to the actual Nudist itself.

Differences? She found a few, and really not too few to mention:

[T]he Madden version has a slightly lower heel & padded insole (which can be considered added value, allowing for greater comfort!). It has a synthetic lining & outsole vs. leather ones. The toe strap is slightly thicker. But all in all, it’s an aesthetically pleasing duplicate & if the fit of the shoe works well for your foot, it’s definitely a bargain at 1/5 of Weitzman’s original. Definitely a great look for less! Unless, of course, you’ve seen The Wolf of Wall Street & have a developed a deep-seeded issue with Madden’s shady past.

My seeds are shallow as can be.

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Hardware issues

“Shopping, sex, and shopping for sex,” said Penn Jillette once upon a time, “propel all new technology.” Today, gender-swapping is cumbersome and expensive; tomorrow, maybe not so much. In the meantime, there’s always Adobe Photoshop.

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Playing doctor 2.0

A day doesn’t go by that someone doesn’t ask this:

Guys keep pressuring me to send them nudes, I tell them no but they don’t listen. The guys who ask usually send me pictures first. I don’t like giving into peer pressure but I have before. So what do I do or say to the people who ask????

Perhaps there should be an FAQ on such matters, written by an authority on the subject. I nominate Robert Stacy McCain:

So-called “sexting” is such a disastrously bad idea that I shouldn’t even have to explain why it’s a bad idea. Here is the thing: The “sexting” participant provides his or her partner with evidence — a permanent digital record of text messages and images — that the partner can then use as he or she pleases. Any young woman who sends nude selfies to a guy can just presume that he will immediately show the photos to all his friends. They always do. That’s why guys ask for nude photos from girls, in order to display them to their buddies as trophies. Any guy who asks for a nude photo is a creep, and any girl who sends a nude photo is a fool. The fact that we now have laws against so-called “revenge porn” (i.e., the unauthorized distribution of nude photos and/or videos, typically as revenge against an ex-girlfriend) does not change the reality that only a fool would ever send a nude photo of herself to a guy, and it is not “victim-blaming” to say so, no matter what any feminist tries to tell you.

“But Stacy, all the kids are doing it!”

No, they are not, and that kind of peer-pressure excuse is part of the problem. Responsible adults do not endorse foolish behavior simply because it is common behavior, and “sexting” is foolish behavior. Even if you did want to engage in reckless promiscuity, it would be foolish to create a permanent digital record of such behavior.

Of course, the question is almost always asked by someone in her teens, in which case the laws involved get seriously harsh seriously quickly: grownup nudes are one thing, but you can’t spell “jailbait” without, um, jail.

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Let there be breeze

People like this actually exist, though I don’t really know any who exist at this level:

If it were up to me, I would always be naked. I would go to work naked, I would go to parties naked, and I would navigate the many forms of New York’s public transportation system without so much as my socks on.

I do have a few friends who routinely wear nothing at home, or will do so the moment everyone else has left the house, but I don’t know anyone willing to challenge the subway in her birthday suit. At least New York can’t bust you for toplessness.

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Dumping foreseen

You know how they’re always saying “Don’t be that guy”? This is a guy you don’t want to be:

Yahoo Answers screenshot: I need some pics of girls to prove to my girlfriend that I'm experienced with getting nudes of girls. She wont send em without proof. Help!?

I’m guessing she’s already figured out that this guy contains a significant percentage of weasel DNA.

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Secaucus out

I admit, I would not have guessed this:

Over the years, New Jersey has led the nation in many things — toxic waste, population density, insults directed our way, and so on.

Add nakedness to the list.

Jerseyans like to grin and bare it — at home, anyway — more than residents of any other state, according to a new survey.

Trulia, the popular site for home buyers and renters, launched their #trulihome campaign by partnering with anonymous online sharing community Whisper to discover the most bizarre, unapologetic things people do at home.

The results were revealing. New Jerseyans were 142 percent more likely to admit to going au naturel at home than the residents of Louisiana, number two on the list. Rounding out the most naked top five: Mississippi, South Carolina and Rhode Island.

You could read the comments, I suppose, but you’ll quit the moment you see the name “Chris Christie.”

Maybe there’s a reason for this. I’d ask Fausta, but she’s moved out of state, and I suspect her answer would be something like “After paying taxes, nobody has any money for clothes.”

(Via Fark.)

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Watch how you hug that tree

Tree Hugger from My Little Pony: Friendship is MagicAfter all these years, I retain a sort of sentimental fondness for hippie chicks, not because I had any physical or emotional connection to them — certainly none of them ever had any reason to look my way — but because I saw them as making a concerted effort to improve, to the extent possible, their immediate environments, in several senses of the word; and, by extension, maybe to make the world a slightly better place, without any of the blatant cynicism or neofascist tendencies exhibited by today’s cracktivists. Guys of the species, on the other hand, tended to invite my suspicion: I wondered just how many of them were feigning the lifestyle just to get next to the chicks.

That said, this bunch is really bumming me out:

Activists at the University of California at Berkeley got naked on Saturday to show their love for nearby trees that authorities are planning to cut own.

About 50 people showed up at a grove of eucalyptus trees on the campus of UC-Berkeley, stripped off their clothes, and began to intimately interact with the trees in the grove for the benefit of photographer Jack Gescheidt.

There’s a lot to be said for protecting trees, and I tend to mourn at their demise. But the epidermis on your average coddled college student is no match for tree bark, and a lot of these characters are going to end up with body art of the involuntary kind: scratches and scrapes and scars.

(Do not ask why I would know this.)

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It was a front she put up

A chorus and a verse of “Let It Go” for a Maryland politician who apparently can’t:

A Democratic state delegate in Maryland who is rumored to be considering a run for Congress was charged with trespassing and indecent exposure after exposing her breasts to her ex-husband and his fiancée at their home, according to court documents obtained by the Washington Post.

Del. Ariana Kelly was dropping off her children at their father’s home in Bethesda, Md. when she became enraged that her ex-husband’s fiancée was present.

Her ex, wisely, took pictures:

Barak Sanford captured video of the incident, which according to court documents revealed that Kelly exposed her breasts to the camera “with one breast in each hand [shaking] them up and down.”

After being told by police that she could be arrested for indecent exposure, Kelly said, “Arrest me then” and extended her hands towards the officers to be arrested.

And, well, you didn’t have to tell them twice.

It is not yet clear whether this will affect Kelly’s reported interest in Maryland’s 8th District Congressional seat, about to be vacated by Chris Van Hollen, who is seeking to replace the retiring Barbara Mikulski in the Senate.

(Via Robert Stacy McCain.)

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Maximizing air exposure

At least one day every summer you’re going to encounter some situation like this:

We’re all feeling the heat right now, and where as comfort wise indoors naked in front of the air con is preferable, there comes a time when you just have to leave the house.

So true. I do strive to minimize such excursions, or to combine as many of them as possible into a single trip. (This latter habit, so to speak, I picked up during Energy Crisis I, when we were all exhorted to make fewer trips.)

Were it not for the fact that I would actually have to go somewhere on said excursions, by which I mean “somewhere other than a mere drive-through window,” I suppose I could position myself naked in front of the A/C vents in the car, but this has its drawbacks, most of which have to do with the lowered presumption of privacy out in public. (And I have leather seats, so at the very least I’d have to bring along a couple of towels.)

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