Heya kids - Scrubbie here.
Meet Scrub's cuzin - Dolphin. He's a good guy. Went and saw the young feller yesterday. Had ourselves a few giggles. He's a country boy. His pappy, Scrub's Uncle, he a good 'ol boy from Logan West Virginny in the good 'ol U S of A. Dophin's pappy - one of, I dunno - like 17 kids all born au natural in the living room of the house on the mountain. Family reunion every year where the sisters get together to have tractor throwing contests etc. They all muchnie munchie on Mountain Rocks - which I understand to be deep fried hog testicles.
Excuse me? Deep fried hog testicles? Are you kiddin me?
Anyway - oh... speakin' of the West Virginny country folk - Uncle John (we all have an uncle John - don't we?) Uncle John - despite bein' a Canuck for a whole whack'a years - still has some of the good 'ol boy roots to him. And, one of his favourite sayings from the south is "Lord willin' and the creek don't rise". Bwaaa-haa-haa! Ain't that just the best? If any of ya'll are readin' from West Virgina - particularly LOGAN West Virginny - lemme know. I'll pass along to the Uncle your howdy-doody's. (BTW - I do believe that is some of the most magnificent countryside I have ever seen. Beeeeuteeeeful. I'll never forget waking up in our motel room, being shrouded in mist at the base of a mountain. There was a smell in the air that I cant describe - but has stayed with me for many many years. I think it was the smell of contentment and peace. Sorry to go all deep there.)
On a different note...
Brace yourselves. Naked Guy was at the gym again today. Dude is one Chatty-Cathy. I managed to avoid conversation with "Free Willy" - but buddy in the locker just down from me wasn't quite as lucky. As per 'da rules' - I kept out of it. (I have linked "Da Rules" from a previous post. If you haven't read Da Rules - you really should before continuing. Don't worry - we'll wait for ya. Off ya go - then come back.)
At Scrub's local workout facility, we have an infrared sauna. Kewl, eh? Anyway - this sauna is not much bigger than Scrubs indoor outhouse. It's kinda small. Good enough for two guys. MAYBE three - MAX. Us boys - we like to keep our protective bubble of dude space. Just the way it is.
So - most of the fellers at the gym - they're a good bunch. They abide by the code. They follow 'da rules. No issues. Good times. And, when they are in the infrared cubby - towels. Simple eh. Again - we boys like simple.
Ya, it's ok to sit in there bare-arsed. No problem. But - towels. Coverin' up the naughty bits. Towels.
But - some of these buds - no towels. No towels. NO TOWELS!
Awww - c'mon! That just aint right. Dude - you're sharin' space.
Ok - bad enough? NO - it gets worse.
Gals - ya know when ya'll are sittin' pretty... it's legs just so and such. Ya know?
But - us boys - ya know when we're sittin' around - we gots the legs split, right? It's no mystery - we got junk down there. And, when sittin' - ya just gotta split the legs. Make room for the boys, the family jewels, the wibbly-wobblies. Know what I mean? It's just the way it is.
So - these Non-Code fellas - at the gym - all nekkid and stuff - sittin in the infrared - they're not only lettin' it all hang out - but, they got one leg up on the side bench, while kickin' back on their own bench. You're gettin' the picture, right? I mean - GEEZ.
What really kicks it up a notch is that the 'ol infrared is all glass front and it's right by the showers - so ya got no choice but to see all the bits and pieces of these guys when ur strollin' by.
I mean - what are ya doin? Waitin for a colonoscopy? Blech.
I think I'll go and find myself some night time happy pills. I am not in the mood... not one little bit... to have dreams about that stuff.