Burn, do you not see the difference between a buck-naked guy blow-drying his posterior and over-weight people in swimsuits? What, fat people should just stay home, steer clear of the beaches and the pool, so as to avoid offending the delicate sensibilities of others? Bushwa. People come in all shapes and sizes. If your argument is that people should exercise a degree of modesty and good taste in how they dress, or when they dress, I’m right there with you, but if your argument is that unattractive people have some obligation to hide, you’re on your own. And, sorry to say, if you’re ashamed to show your own self because you consider yourself “fat and pale,” then that’s your hang-up, not necessarily everyone else’s.
I know what your getting at, but I’m bother with what you said here. I’m comfortable with myself as a gay man and that makes some poeple uncomfortable with me. I’m not going to let they feelings stop me from living my life. Of course, you will NEVER catch me in a speedo in public or in private for that matter.
Well I certainly stirred up quite a bit of resentment.
Well i’ll just let the topic die down as the people who newly see it pop in to say “you’re a bastard for not thinking like me and for not being sensative to fat people’s rights”
I never once said that we should make a law or keep people from going anywhere. I was just saying what a large percentage of us think, and never say (for this very reason) whenever we see someone parading their nakedness in a gym locker room, or wearing clothes that are everal sized too small or what not. That sometimes too much is too much.
It was a mundane comment that roused everyone to the point of wanting to call me a Nazi (hasn’t happened yet but i am sure some person will make the remark).
Pardon me, i’ll screen all future posts and responses so as not to rile anyone’s sensativities and sterilize myself the way society so often does in the sake of politcal correctness.
Voted Biggest Smartass by all you beautiful people!
You always use violence. I should’ve ordered glutinous rice chicken.
Abraham Lincoln told of meeting a woman on the road who exclaimed “My God, you’re ugly.” He replied “I can’t help it if I’m ugly!” She said “well you could at least stay home!” My face wouldn’t exactly turn a funeral procession up an alley, though it is one of those Irish faces that start to look like a club foot with time.
How about a show of hands/posts? How many of you guys used up a sick day in high school to stay home to let a zit subside?
God, I love his stuff!!! The Christmas Whore, was particularly LOL!
A woman needs four animals in her life: A mink in the closet, a Jaguar in the garage, a tiger in the bedroom, and an ass to pay for it all.
—Zsa Zsa Gabor
Oh good. I thought I might have to wait until tomorrow before the “waaaah, the PC patrol is picking on me” posts started.
You took a position. Others disagreed. You started to whine. PC does not enter into it. I don’t recall any posts telling you to be sensitive to the plight of others or to censure your speech because you might hurt someone’s feelings. You stated your position. We stated ours. No one called you any names.
The “courtesy to others” that you call for is based upon the idea that one’s body is something that is not fit to display. You are certainly welcome to feel that way. I am certainly welcome to disagree. I am even able to read your contrary opinion without whining that you are attacking me.
When did “mundane and pointless” become equated with “everyone has to agree with me”?
The best lack all conviction
The worst are full of passionate intensity.
*
The guy might have hemorrhoids. It’s important to wash and dry the irritated tissues thoroughly. (And you thought that you already knew more than you wanted to!)
Personally, I don’t really care if I’m “casually naked” at a gym. My body is out-of-shape, lumpy, and mottled. But it’s my body, and I really don’t care what other people think about it. I’m not in a beauty contest. I wouldn’t intentionally flash my pubes at anyone, but neither would I die of embarrassment if that happened accidentally.
I got a chest xray today (yesterday, actually) and didn’t wear the gown…just removed my dress (I didn’t know I was going to get an xray and the dress has metal buttons) and told the male technician to go ahead with the pics. It didn’t seem to bother him, and it didn’t bother me.
My normal home lounging outfit is a pair of glasses, a pair of sandals, and a pair of panties. I only wear the panties because I object to hair transfer.
Lynn
The party adjourned to a hot tub, yes. Fully clothed, I might add.
– IBM employee, testifying in California State Supreme Court
Back in my PBS workin’ days, I used to have to watch Lamb Chop’s Play-A-Long. One episode, Sheri Lewis is talking to her sock puppet crew and Lambchop is talking about different “people” being different colors. The horse-donkey guy (don’t recall his name) is brown, she’s white, Hushpuppy is grey. “What color am I?” asks Sheri Lewis.
“Mottled pink.”
Thanks for the deja vu chuckle, Lynn
“I guess one person can make a difference, although most of the time they probably shouldn’t.”
‘When did “mundane and pointless” become equated with “everyone must agree with me”?’
(This, after posting a biting observation that put words in the mouth of the OP in order to condemn same? Quiet down.)
At the risk of having all of ye ‘objective’ folks object, I have to agree with BurnMeUp here. I’ve about had it up to my eyes with the brand of militancy that jambs itself in your face and screams “accept me, or else,” while shouting down any opposition and seeking out insult and injury to protest even if the insult must be manufactured out of thin air.
I don’t think I heard BurnMeUp condemn the existence of the wide variety of body shapes that ye’ve shaped for yerselves. I thought I heard a pretty reasonable objection to the brand of ‘in your face’ exhibitionism that forces one to be confronted with a global expanse of neatly cleaved hairy flesh punctuated by a hair dryer aimed at the goal line upon opening the door.
How is it yer all so bleedin’ thin skinned and sensitive about the possibility that this might be a slur against fat people, rather than a simple observation that the fella with the hair dryer wasn’t forced to choose the hallway or the TV lounge to conduct this business? I don’t think BurnMeUp needed to defend himself against that nonsense here.
Is someone going to step up and declare that they prefer to watch the TV with someone’s dangling bits providing the counterpoint? Might someone suggest that drying one’s ass with an electric fan in the hallway opposite the door has some advantage over drying one’s ass in a rather more private area?
Quit looking for injury where it doesn’t exist and is not intended. The whole practice demeans the cause you espouse, and makes you look like the very image of the intolerance you seek to condemn.
Dr. Watson
“You think it’s easy to buy shoes for an idea?”
Dr. Watson, if BurnMeUp had kept his complaints to having to watch someone perform hygiene on their personal regions, I would have agreed totally.
But he then expanded his distaste to include fat people that do things that I assume he would have no objection to “normal” people doing, such as taking their shirts off at the beach, and wearing spandex.
I object to the attitude that some people should somehow censor their normal, everyday appearance, or not do ordinary, everyday things because they are just not a pretty as the OP thinks they should be.
People naked in a locker room are militantly jamming themselves in your face and demanding “accept me, or else”?
Fat men who take off their shirts at the beach are doing the same?
Fat women who wear spandex are also guilty of in your face militancy?
The speedo thing, of course, goes without saying, right?
People who express contrary opinions are “seeking out insult and injury to protest even if the insult must be manufactured out of thin air”?
And perhaps you could explain what words I put in the mouth of BurnMeUp. I don’t recall doing any such thing. He expressed his opinion. I expressed mine. He whined because some people disagreed with him. I expressed my opinion on that, too.
Oh, and while I’m here:
Thanks. I love irony.
The best lack all conviction
The worst are full of passionate intensity.
*
Wanna read a story more gross than a guy using a blow dryer on his ass? If not, I will provide sufficient space both before and after the story so you can scroll past it without reading it.
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I forget where I read this, it may have been in Ball Four! or in Mickey Mantle’s autobiography (which was probably ghost-written). Anyway, The New York Yankees had just won an important ball game and management had a post-game spread in the locker room. Yogi Berra, who was naked at the time, saw the fried chicken and reached across the table for it…
…and dragged his privates through the mashed potatoes.
And you were revolted by a guy using a blow dryer on his butt.
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Feel free to correct me at any time. But don’t be surprised if I try to correct you.
In response to the OP (not Burn bashing- Jeez- lighten up already!)
[quote]
Yesterday the worst thing ever… I walk in to the locker room, and there is a guy standing in the hall opposite the door, bent over, blow drying his ass with a hair dryer… that is NOT a scene I need at 7 am.
[\quote]
I thought it was just me! The women in the locker room at my club parade around buck naked, chatting and drying hair, sitting down putting on makeup at the vanity, etc. Or else they sit with a towel around thier waist and their top uncovered.
Whatever- I’ve got great boobs, but I don’t run around the health club with 'em flappin in the breeze for all to see. I find it very odd, too.
Zette
“If I had to live your life, I’d be begging to have someone pop out both my eyes. Just in case I came across a mirror.” - android209 (in the Pit) Zettecity
Voted “Most Empathetic”- can you believe that?
I used to work at Universal Studios (the theme park), as the Southern Cal contingent now knows. Anyway, staff had to get their uniforms from wardrobe and change in a locker room. I liked that, because it freed me from responsibility for the uniform’s upkeep. There was no “casual nakedness”; everyone just skinned out of one set of clothes and into another, due more to space constraints than modesty. One day, a middle aged woman pointed at me and shrieked, “A red brassiere! Omigod, I’ve never seen such a thing!” I pointed out that matching bra and pants sets, in colors and patterns, were available in all department stores. I didn’t say “Ever hear of Victoria’s Secret?” because the infamous red brassiere didn’t come from VS, and I didn’t want to misrepresent myself. In fact, perhaps I shouldn’t have answered her at all. It didn’t make me uncomfortable, but it was odd the way she shrieked, as if a spider was on me.
“His eyes are as green as a fresh-pickled toad,
His hair is as dark as a blackboard,
I wish he was mine, he’s really divine,
The hero who conquered the Dark Lord.”
