I post these in the spirit of...well, no spirit. No spirit whatsoever. Enforced humility, perhaps. These defy the laws of anatomy, of physics, and probably several local ordinances as well. So what happens next is I go straight to Shucks and spare myself the despair. It's back to intruding on clothed people going about their business for me.
I know, I'm stalling, waiting for the muse to speak to me. I have a fickle muse. Ficklemuse, that sounds like a kind of German Christmas cookie, doesn't it? Shit. Okay, I give up. I'm well aware this hasn't been my best blog post ever. You're not telling me anything I don't know.