Paganistan: Notes from the Secret Commonwealth

In Which One Midwest Man-in-Black Confers, Converses & Otherwise Hob-Nobs with his Fellow Hob-Men (& -Women) Concerning the Sundry Ways of the Famed but Ill-Starred Tribe of Witches.

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Putting the 'Bare Ass' in Embarrass

“The roofers are coming tomorrow,” my housemate tells me one evening. “You might want to spend the day out; it's going to be noisy.”

I thank him for the heads up and continue getting ready for bed.

Next morning, I get up early. I climb out of bed, stretch, and open the blind.

On the roof immediately outside the window, his eye caught by the movement, stands one of the roofers, looking in.

Meanwhile, I'm standing there butt-naked, scratching my nuts. Shades of Life of Brian. I'm not sure which of us is the more surprised, or embarrassed.

Oh well. If you're going to do something, do it gracefully.

“Uh...morning,” I say, waving.

 

Above: Michelangelo Buonarroti, David (detail)

 

 

 

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Tagged in: skyclad
Poet, scholar and storyteller Steven Posch was raised in the hardwood forests of western Pennsylvania by white-tailed deer. (That's the story, anyway.) He emigrated to Paganistan in 1979 and by sheer dint of personality has become one of Lake Country's foremost men-in-black. He is current keeper of the Minnesota Ooser.

Comments

  • Anthony Gresham
    Anthony Gresham Tuesday, 28 April 2020

    I saw that movie. I vividly remember the scene your referring too.

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