There are things you learn on this journey of life that make you say to yourself. “Wow. That can’t be right.” For example: Today is “World Naked Gardening Day.”
I know. It must be some sort of typo, right?
Pretty odd, but a less disturbing celebration than, “World Naked Iron Girder Welding Day” and arguably a more popular event than, “World Naked Slithering Over Shards Of Glass And Rusted Barbed Wire Day.”
I’m assuming all of these special days are slightly less celebrated than say Christmas or a Birthday.
The tools, although loosely based on primitive man’s first efforts to till the soil, also closely resemble devices of torture utilized in a Medieval Spanish dungeon.
So why, oh why would you have these implements of injury anywhere near you while you are naked? It’s bad enough that roses have thorns, but have you ever seen or held a pair of pruning shears? I mean, seriously!
Exposing your body to the dangers of Medieval weaponry and thorny plants is bad enough, but for good measure, let’s throw in the possibility of being stung on your naughty bits by a bee, or bitten by a few mosquitoes. There isn’t an insect repellent in the world that could be strong enough to make me mow the lawn wearing nothing but a cheerful smile. You think a bug spray called “OFF” is going to cut it?
I don’t think so.
My bug spray of choice would have to be called “Insect Restraining Order,” or “Get The Fuck OFF Of Me!”
So just why would anyone want to garden whilst naked? To me, this whole thing stinks of hippies wanting to get in touch with nature: Naked men and women with hair down to their bare asses showing off the kind of hideously under-groomed bodies similar to those depicted in the 1970s illustrated editions of “The Joy Of Sex.”
I’m just wondering, do these hairy horticulturists wear gardening gloves?
Yeah, hippy, for Christ’s sake, be sure to glove and protect those precious green thumbs. Oh, and while you’re pruning the roses don’t forget to trim that bush.
And if a talented gardener has “green thumbs” what does a talented naked gardener possess? Surely something that sounds like a dose of penicillin or a biotic (of the anti variety) might be in order. Or is modern medicine a second-rate tonic? Can’t we just go all Medieval and use a weed whacker?
Here’s a legitimate question: How does one go about getting your own day in which everyone celebrates YOU? I mean, come on, “World Naked Gardening Day???”
How long will it be before there is finally a “World Bay Area Brit Day?”
And on what day should that fall?
I mean, I wouldn’t want “World Bay Area Brit Day” on my birthday, that would be like having your birthday on Christmas Day. (Which must have been a really tough break for Jesus. Of all the dumb luck, the Son of God, born on Christmas Day: A lifetime of getting cheated lay ahead.)
“Well, little Jesus, this wooden mule toy is for both your birthday AND Christmas.”
Of course the three wise men, had all the angles covered:
“This gift of gold is for your birthday. This is frankincense, you know, for Christmas, and then this right here is Myrhh, a balm made from the Commiphora Myrhha plant—a thorny piece of nastiness that probably gave Adam and Eve some seriously painful puncture wounds while they were cavorting around in the Garden of Eden like a couple of hairy hippies.”
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