Nudists: Don’t let them take your guns

It takes deep strength of character to hold to your convictions in the face of opposition. Particularly when you’re fighting for your right to bear firearms and your well-tanned, possibly supple, possibly as leathery as the centerfold in a Cavender’s Boots catalog, body. And frankly, we are leaning toward the latter.

I have to respect a man with strong opinions and no pants. It’s like the camera caught him just in the middle of making his final, cutting remark, and just before scampering across the hot concrete to the pool. Or maybe he was emitting a constant, unearthly moan for the last, like, five minutes. Or was lecturing his much, much taller teenage grandson after the damned fool sat on his favorite Westchester rifle.

“In my day, we’d respect a gun, not sit on it! Plus, when you’re not wearing pants, when you sat on a gun, you’d KNOW it. Not like these kids today, with their…jeans…”

There’s something acutely simian about him. It’s the ears. It makes him look simultaneously like a howler monkey earning its name, and a member of British nobility. Though the almost total nudity baseball cap takes away from that somewhat, at least the British nobility bit. But I work about a block from Fraternity Row at the University of Texas, and I will say that monkeys definitely wear baseball caps.

Salvation Army on 183 and Peyton Gin, Austin