I bet you thought this post was about Sponge Bob, huh? Sorry to disappoint, but it's a post in response to a response to a post.
(Close your eyes, Low, we're gonna talk about partial nudity.)
Melanie J, who lives in Calyforny, had this to say in my comment box after my last post:
I can't live where there are too many bronzed goddesses. We have skinny, toned, big b@@bed (edited to meet CTD standards) blondes and large luscious ladies who don't mind being all big and roundy in itty bitty bikinis and that's bad enough. Regular bronze goddesses jogging by would probably deter me from the beach forever.
See that's where you're wrong, Melanie J.
Things are always worse in your imagination than they are in the flesh. Better and worse, I mean. Regular bronze goddesses are worse, yes, because they're naturally flawless eye candy, but better too because they're naturally flawless eye candy.
You get me?
Me neither, but let me try to explain what it's like to live with bikini bottoms here, there and everywhere.
You're driving past Waimea Bay--bikini bottoms, shopping at the Pupukea Foodland--bikini bottoms, attending a baptism at temple beach--bikini bottoms.
See for yourself:
One of these girls is not like the others.
But if I'm being brutally honest, it's not that hard.
Don't get me wrong, it was a shock at first, and it made being perpetually overdressed a bit of a drag, but you get immune to it once you understand the underbelly of the bikini world (LOL, I accidentally wrote uderbelly first). In fact I highly recommend that everyone move to a tropical climate where there are nearly naked people in your face all day. It really takes the charge out of partial nudity.
I've only been a Hawaiian for 17 years, but in my humble opinion there are three types of bikini bottoms--the mooners, the spooners and the crooners.
The mooners are those who wear thong bikinis without feeling like they have a major wedgie. They derive pleasure in the knowledge that others are checking out their chiquitas, (as DeNae would put it) and they are likely to be the models in the BEFORE and AFTER shots on your Hotmail sidebar that you tamn to helk every time you write an email.
In a nutshell, they are exhibitionists with the intent to stimulate, titillate, instigate, invigorate and emancipate.
Then there are the spooners. The spooners have been spoon-fed the you-are-what-you-don't-wear campaign slogan from the time they were potty trained. Bikini-a'la-carte was strictly forbidden from their moral menu, consequently they have developed an over-active bikini alert radar.
In college the spooners signed on the dotted line to keep not only their chiquitas out-of-sight, but out-of-mind too. They also swore on the Holy Da Vinci Code they would refrain from publicly revealing their knee caps, as the knee cap can be dangerous if uncovered incorrectly.
When wearing a bikini a spooner always feels devilishly wicked, which causes them to either crawl on their hands and knees through the snow uphill both ways for 1oo miles chanting hail marys, or to place their thumb on their nose, fingers extended in jazz-hand position, and shout NANI NANI BOO BOO to the sky.
The crooners are the easy breezy-lemon-squeezy bikini bearing babes who live on tropical islands and shop at Foodland. They exert no energy strutting like the mooners or fretting like the spooners. They are what they are and it is what it is. Period. End of story. It never occurs to them to cover up or to strategically place their knee caps in compromising positions. And it never dawns on them that they should really learn to ice skate because where they're headed has plenty of double hockey sticks.
So you see, I have once again succeeded in making a perfectly non-sensical quantum leap by asserting that PPN (public partial nudity) really can go unnoticed.
(But STILL! It's soooo NOT FAIR! Even in h.e. double hockey sticks the crooners will be more comfortable and get more attention than me.)