Modesty Outraged

You'd expect me to be a serious advocate of public nudity but you'd be wrong. Unfortunately if ever such an indecent law passed in our prudish courts, we wouldn't have hunky male models dropping trou on the streets to reveal stunningly ripped muscles. Instead we'd have a bevy of octogenarian grannies showing off their droopy bits.

Hardly eye-candy.

Adam - that lucky bastard who by all biblical accounts was pretty much a stud - can of course pull off a minuscule fig leaf. But for the rest of us, clothes were made for a reason. To cover our unsightly bits. Hence the more bits unsightly, the more cloth should be used for coverage. Which means pretty soon I'll be graduating into a black shapeless djellaba.


OMG I am half-nekkid. If I hide against the wall, maybe no one can see me!
That of course doesn't explain the ethics of the changing room.

While the flabby elderly folk don't seem to have any qualms about getting horrifyingly nekkid, the younger fellows these days seem to be shying away from the spotlight like vestal virgins. Even in the locker rooms, the boys here have queues just to change in the men's room.

Seriously. We're talking about fit, lean 20-something fellows scurrying into the toilet to slip into scrubs. Modest lil prudes surprisingly, shy to flash what their papa gave them. I can hear squeals of embarassed horror if even a patch of skin is revealed. Surely these striplings have nothing to be ashamed of. Even then... hell, they already have their damned white boxers on!

And then outside in the public area we have portly middle-aged surgeons stripping down to their skimpy thongs.

Sigh. My modesty is outraged.