Remember how thongs gross me out? Well, the scantinannies strike back.
Perhaps I’ve sinned against the gods of gluteal clevage, for today I’ve already involuntarily witnessed:
- Two thong straps.
- One thong where I saw the actual “T” part that goes down into the nether regions.
- One infected belly ring.
- One butt crack of at least four inches length.
- A man in a Speedo bathing suit and nothing else. (OK, he was just laying out in the park, but still.)
Personally, I find all of the above many levels nastier than breastfeeding in public, but there’s no thong debate (or La Clevage League) that I know of…