Bodacious Boomer

This morning on the Today show I heard that a man was arrested for being nude in his own home. This topic sparked a bit of debate. Should that have happened? Now in the interest of accuracy I guess I should say that this naked person was seen by someone who was walking by his house. The man in question was not doing anything of a sexual nature. On the Today show this morning, they said he was in the window for “awhile”. However, after reading the article, I would say that was not completely accurate.

The man in question said he was going to the kitchen to make coffee wearing only flip-flops at 8:30 a.m.. If you click on the video in the article you can see a video of the house. It would seem to me that unless he was plastered right up to the glass that it’d be pretty hard to see him in there. Many people I know have flashed someone inadvertently at sometime in their life. However, I think it’s usually someone within your own home who gets the eyeful. It’s not usually pretty, but it happens.

Since I no longer have small children I really don’t have a problem with this; especially if the guy looked like Giles Marini (the sexy neighbor from the Sex and the City movie). However, knowing my luck, the gentleman in the buff would look like Fred Mertz.

I’ve heard that some people like to clean while naked. Somehow harsh chemicals around bare skin, especially skin that’s usually covered by clothes, just doesn’t seem like a good idea. Why would people want to do this? Are they afraid of getting bleach on their clothes? Wouldn’t they be more afraid of getting bleach on their skin?  Am I missing something here?

Back in my college days, when 1 computer would fill a room, my date and I went to party at a friend’s apartment. (We’d not been there before). After we sat down we noticed there were Polaroid’s (how old am I?) of them everywhere. Normally, that would be fine. However, they were NAKED. They weren’t doing anything in the photos- Thank God; but they were naked, in all types of poses. Naked photos propped up on the toilet, naked photos in the frig. Thank goodness the photos were taken before the subjects in the photos were anywhere that cold. (The whole shrinkage  thing, you know.) I was only in my early 20’s at that time, but I found it very disconcerting. I guess I wasn’t as much into the whole “freedom” thing as I thought. I faked a migraine and we made a quick exit.

At my age now and in my current condition I think I’d be more comfortable naked if I were upside down. Of course since holding my head down gives me a headache, I’m not going to do that anytime soon anyway. The whole subject of nakedness is a very personal one. I once stayed for a couple of weeks at the home of a woman I met in the balloon club. When I got there, I discovered that she was a nudist and all her furniture was covered in fake fur. It wouldn’t have been so bad but the fake fur looked matted- Yikes! She said I could be naked too if I wanted. I said thanks, but I wasn’t really into naked- not that there was anything wrong with that. When I was there, I stayed in my room- which only had a bed and a dresser. To each their own, I guess.

Here’s a discussion on good naked vs. bad naked-

Today’s posting is about sex. (If there are young children around you may want to send them to another room). According to Live Science.com penis length matters more to men than women. Having been around this mortal realm for awhile now and having spoken to numerous female friends about this, I concur. According to the article most men, when at attention, are between 5.5″ and 6.25 “. Women vary on this of course. But I think for most of us, this is just fine.

I have one friend who used to call her boyfriend “The Big Polaris”. She said that although it was impressive to look at, it really didn’t have another other redeeming qualities. (It didn’t know any tricks or anything). Mark, the owner of said awesome appendage, thought that he was God’s gift to women, because of his impressive “rocket”. Apparently he was quite the self-centered soul, never really caring if his partner ever reached orbit just so long as he did. Size isn’t everything- a concept this pompous ass couldn’t quite grasp.

I was also told of another man who was the proud owner of some massive manhood. First thing in the morning in his dorm room, Walter would throw back the covers and place fist over fist on himself climbing up Mr. Happy til he got to the top. (Remember doing “chooses” to see who’d bat first when you were a kid? Kinda like that). Normally I might find that hard to believe. However, it was his male, heterosexual roommate that told me. I’m guessing God gave Walter that to compensate for making him one of the ugliest people to ever walk the face of the earth. He had ears that stuck out like handles on a sugar bowl through his thin, oily hair. (Combined with a hook nose and no chin he looked like a caricature come to life).  His personality matched his appearance. It was actually kinda sad.

There is another condition that unfortunately I personally saw once in my life, not long after jumping into the pool, so to speak. As he was undressing the guy was already apologizing. (I was kinda freaked out, not knowing what to expect). It’s called micropenis. After seeing it, I called a male friend the next day and asked if this was something I was likely to encounter again. I was relieved to hear “no”. He also said was “Poor bastard. I’m surprised he hasn’t killed himself”. I never saw that poor guy again. Over the years, I just referred to him as “The thumb”.

Much later in life I coined the syndrome PPS- Puny Penis Syndrome. I’ve said a lot of guys had PPS over the last few years. (Although I never knew any of them in an intimate way). However whenever a guy is being a gigantic hemorrhoid, I figure they’re PO’d about something and PPS seems as good as reason as any. Men could save a ton of money on things like Extenze if they’d just realize that’s it not quantity but quality that women really want in intimate encounters.

One of the funniest things I’ve ever seen pertaining to this issue was on Curb Your Enthusiasm. A guy who’d been accused of having PPS offered up a different theory.

When I was in high school I had friends and I dated. I don’t think I was considered a “nerd”. I always thought I was kinda average in most respects. I went to the prom with Richard, a senior from another school I’d been dating for 6 months or so. We had matching outfits made for the after-prom party. White pants and vests with big blue paisleys on them. (I guess that really was kinda nerdy.) As far as I know, no photos of those outfits still exist thank God. Anyway, after the party we went back to his house since his folks were away for the weekend. I really don’t know what everyone else did that night, however, we did nothing. I stand corrected. We did alot of kissing and tonsil examinations. We laid on his bed together, but all most of our clothes stayed on. (The shoes came off.) All hands stayed on top of the clothes. I haven’t taken a poll (However, my 40th reunion is in Oct. so I might then.), about what everyone else did on prom night, but I’m guessing that what we did was pretty tame. We were going to “wait” until we got to college. So we both left for UT still virgins.

When I was at UT I lived in a private dorm off campus. I never really thought much about it at the time however, looking back, I guess it was a lot nicer than most. Laurie and I had a three bedroom suite, with our own bathroom and little kitchen to whip up snacks. We converted the third bedroom into a small living room.  Laurie was pledging a sorority. In fact, most of the freshman girls in our dorm were doing that too. I wasn’t. My dad was self-employed and I didn’t want to put an extra financial burden on him so I had decided not to go through rush. Most of the freshman girls at our dorm had also had sex, at least once.

I dated a few different guys that fall, and was still able to maintained my virtue. One poor guy, Johnny, got so excited while we were making out in his car that he wound up with a wet spot on his jeans. (He was mortified.) At the time, I wasn’t completely sure how that happened. (I was dumb.) I would hear the other girls talking about sex. It sounded interesting, but not anything I was dying to do or anything. I was a late bloomer I guess.

I went with Laurie the day she was meeting her French tutor for the first time. I don’t know what it was exactly, but I was smitten by him. He had blond hair and blue eyes. (Richard, my prom date, was a blond too. I was in my blond phase, I guess.) Apparently he liked what he saw since he asked me to a party before her first tutoring session was over. My first big fraternity party was a toga party. I remember wearing my bra with one strap down, under my toga (sheet.) Upon entering the frat house every guy handed over a bottle of booze that was poured into a communal bucket. Most of the freshmen being only 18 or 19 at the time, I have no idea how they procured the booze. Remember the movie Animal House? That’s pretty much the way it was. Reggie gave me a glass of “punch” which I didn’t drink. (That “punch” could’ve stripped paint.)

The music was loud and most of the people looked to be having a good time, the couples hanging on each other. Since it was apparent that I wasn’t having a good time, we left and went to his friend’s apartment. The moment we got there, the other couple split for the bedroom, leaving us alone on the couch. Some kissing ensued, but I was determined that nothing would go too far. (I discovered that’s a lot harder to maintain when you’re just wearing a sheet.) It was like being with an octopus. However, my defenses held and my virtue remained unblemished. Reggie got pissed and call me a “tease.” (I was devastated but didn’t let on.) The one and only bit of advice I was given by my dad before I left for UT was “Don’t be a tease.” It was a very quiet and very, very fast trip back to my dorm. Reggie didn’t walk me to the door, or even get out of his car for that matter, when I got back to the dorm. I went to bed that night feeling conflicted.

I called Houston the next day and spoke to Pam, my brother’s girlfriend. Although my dad and I were close, I knew I couldn’t ask him. (He’d have hunted Reggie down like a rabid dog.) Pam was a few years older than I, so I thought she could give me good advice. Basically, she told me that it was time to “give it up.” She said that I was in college now and college guys were just going to expect that. I remember her last words- “The best you can hope for is being able to decide who, when and where it would be.”

So that’s just what I did…The exciting conclusion of” Was it good for you” in Part 2, coming soon.