Well, as search terms go, it’s not nearly as fun as Belly Button Squirm (thank you TDND), but I find it amusing that somebody found my blog as a result of feeding those two words into a search engine. It sounds like a dismal box-office failure, I think. Now Showing! Visiting Naked: show times 11:40, 3:50, and 7:10…only on Tuesday. Or one of those not-remotely-believable romance novels with a picture of a buff man on the front who happens to be…in the buff…at least from the unsnapped button on his jeans, up. I can see the synopsis on the back cover (it wouldn’t have a dust jacket; this is definitely paperback-only material): When unwitting out-of-towner Studd Muffin accidentally crashes a wedding at a nudist colony on a visit to the Ravishing Ranch, bridesmaid Wilby Focked falls head over heels for the ill-clothed charmer.
What does this mean, anyway? Are we visiting Naked? If so, where does Naked reside? Perhaps we are naked while visiting… But visiting whom? And for what purpose?
Not that nakedness must have a purpose. You must admit, gratuitous nudity has a certain…charm…to it. I am, for example, currently engaged in a most charming visit with you, my dear readers (all five of you)… And I’m naked. (Pardon the feminine imperfections.) So I’m visiting naked.
Therefore, I’ve lived up to the search term. (Mission accomplished?)
But there are other naked activities (besides visiting with y’all) that I should be getting back to, now that the Mister has had a short breather. (I require a bit of naked athleticism from him from time to time…particularly on Saturday nights…thus the need for short rest periods on his part.) He’s in the other room, strumming his guitar at the moment, but he should be strumming something else. I think I’ll go visit him…