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64Funny
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February 16, 2017
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"Name one other way to see a naked woman besides Playboy Magazine."

It’s over. It’s finally over. The worst stretch of twelve months in human history is finally behind us.

And I’m not talking about heartbreaking acts of violence, death, and destruction or a vicious election and its chaotic aftermath. I’m talking about the boobs in Playboy. We lost them. Then, just as all hope was lost, they triumphantly returned. The boobies came back to Playboy.

You may ask why I didn’t seek nudity from some other source during that dark time. What other source? Name one other way to see a naked woman besides Playboy Magazine.

The internet? What? Just go online and head on over to some website that magically offers instant nudity at no cost? Pretending this fantasy somehow were a reality, how would I find such a website? Another website that finds websites? And on this website that finds other websites, what would I type in the search bar that could somehow pinpoint the nudity hidden among the infinite troves of academic content? Just anything even tangentially related to a naked woman? And most other things that aren’t at all, even if I weren’t even trying? Sure thing, let me saddle up my unicorn.

Playboy bringing back nudity is the headline of the year, maybe even the century, especially for me, someone who for a particular reason has access to magazines but practically nothing else. Maybe I live on a remote island that is almost completely off the grid, except for a faithful magazine delivery person and their canoe that can only bear that weight of one person and one magazine-sized item. Never did I think I would be so happy to see magazine-guy and his rickety canoe again.

Maybe I am imprisoned in a bare chamber completely disconnected from all modern comforts and technologies, my only portal to the outside world being one slot in the wall just wide enough to slide in my tasteless gray protein discs and also magazines.

Maybe I’m… Amish? Yeah, that’s probably it. I mean, not hardcore Amish, but Amish enough. I still buy nudie mags, but I have a code about how tasteful the nudity must be. And while I’m loose enough in my morals to trade a handcrafted good for a Playboy down at the 7-11, I would never go on the internet.

Or maybe I am just a stubborn old man who’s not going to let this collapsing world force him to have to see some nips through a bunch of wires and a computer screen. Damn kids.

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