Flaunt it if you’ve got it, right?.....right!?

Warning: Post contains crude language and imagery. If you are uncomfortable with this (or simply don’t want to read a post about male nudity), please turn back now. You’ve been warned. 

Let me just preface this by saying that contrary to popular belief, my mind is not all rainbows and sunshine. Much like all of you, I have my own unique perspective on life, as strange and distorted as it may be at times, and one of the things I find most fascinating in the world is human psychology. What makes people do the things they do and think the way they think? What drives them? What makes them tick? There’s no greater challenge than trying to understand the world around you at its most basic element, and no greater satisfaction than doing just that. The only problem is that sometimes this interest of mine, this inherent curiosity of the human condition if you will, takes me to dark, dark places. Places I’d rather not go.

Enter the men’s locker room. 

Every single day I brave the locker room at LA Fitness in Norwalk, and every single day I can’t help but wonder why some people are so fascinated with being naked. Now don’t get me wrong, I love being nude as much as the next guy. But, out of respect for others, I try do it on my own time, preferably on my own property. 

What’s that you say? Locker rooms are specifically designed for people to change? They’re literally made so that people can take their clothes off in semi-privacy? I understand all that, but that’s not what I’m talking about here. Go ahead and change, shower, do your thing, that’s perfectly fine. It’s the people that seem to go to extraordinary lengths to both get naked and stay naked that concern me. Like head-to-toe, “walk around the locker room talking to people instead of putting on at least some underwear” type people. You all know the ones. Those are the people I’m talking about, the people I’m trying to figure out here. Now the obvious argument is that they’re just from a different generation, a generation where it was perfectly acceptable to let your junk hang out for as long as you wanted to. But me, I’m not so sure. I think some people (conspiracy alert) just like making other people uncomfortable. 

Think about it. It’s like a power move. If I can make you feel uncomfortable to be around me, then I’ve exerted my will on you. I’ve immediately given myself the upper hand. Through the power of my dick and/or balls, I’ve reverted to the most primal of instincts: male dominance. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. Why else would a grown man be okay with sitting bare-ass on a dirty bench or walking around barefoot on filthy bathroom tile? Why else would I, as a noble patron of the gym, be forced to watch a man blow dry his balls when a towel works just fine? The only logical conclusion, the only thing that makes any sense at all, is that that man woke up one morning and just needed to say to the world “Look at me. Look at me and feel the power of my naked form.” Through his nudity he exerted dominance on the world. Or maybe he was just crazy as hell, I really don’t know. 

The moral of the story is…well, I guess there really isn’t a moral. I’m just thinking out loud here. Enjoy getting the image of a hairy ass dude blow dying his beans and mash out of your head. You’re welcome America. 

-Nate