There are those that say that being naked in public is a good thing, frees your inhibitions, lets you express yourself, is perfectly healthy, perfectly natural.
No, all that’s going on is that you're a freaking <exhibitionist!>
Stop acting as if your own perversions and personality disorders are somehow the pinnacle of human existence. This is not "freedom." You are simply a pervert who gets your jollies off of showing your private parts to complete strangers. You are nothing more than the modern incarnation of the old movie hackney of a dirty old cump who wears a trench coat and walks down the street + flashes people.
Marilyn manson had a little girlfriend with whom, just a few short years ago, he attended some music awards show. His girlfriend specimen was wearing something that, well, I do not think it can legally be called "clothing." This object consisted of a few strings strung like party banners from curtain sconces, on the front and back. This whatever-the-hell-it-was covered less than most shower caps. A long time ago, I saw a comedy skit on TV where some guy is getting out of a shower, and a woman hands him a little face washcloth as a joke. That washcloth offered more modesty than Marylin manson's girlfriend.
Courtney Love and her blacked-out-drunk-about-to-be-hospitalized-for-ODing-on-drugs-any-second-now-probably-not-for-the-first-time self shows up in public most of the time looking like she just stumbled out from a stint at rehab gone wrong. You know, whatever might have started out as clothes once in the distant past, but now is the tattered remains of dead dreams.
No, all that’s going on is that you're a freaking <exhibitionist!>
Stop acting as if your own perversions and personality disorders are somehow the pinnacle of human existence. This is not "freedom." You are simply a pervert who gets your jollies off of showing your private parts to complete strangers. You are nothing more than the modern incarnation of the old movie hackney of a dirty old cump who wears a trench coat and walks down the street + flashes people.
Marilyn manson had a little girlfriend with whom, just a few short years ago, he attended some music awards show. His girlfriend specimen was wearing something that, well, I do not think it can legally be called "clothing." This object consisted of a few strings strung like party banners from curtain sconces, on the front and back. This whatever-the-hell-it-was covered less than most shower caps. A long time ago, I saw a comedy skit on TV where some guy is getting out of a shower, and a woman hands him a little face washcloth as a joke. That washcloth offered more modesty than Marylin manson's girlfriend.
Courtney Love and her blacked-out-drunk-about-to-be-hospitalized-for-ODing-on-drugs-any-second-now-probably-not-for-the-first-time self shows up in public most of the time looking like she just stumbled out from a stint at rehab gone wrong. You know, whatever might have started out as clothes once in the distant past, but now is the tattered remains of dead dreams.
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