Dear Portland, Oregon Cyclists:
As you know, the annual World Naked Bike Ride is this Saturday, June 25. And as your bicycle seat, I am thrilled to help raise awareness of non-polluting transportation options, as well as the cyclist's vulnerability on the street. Make no mistake: It is my honor to assist you in this distinguished endeavor.
That being said, let's talk about your bottom.
It's disgusting. And that's with pants on. Have you for one second considered what I'm exposed to when your pants—or god forbid, you underpants—are off? Let that sink in for moment. Imagine yourself in my situation: You're patiently waiting, minding your own business, when suddenly a naked bottom—twice the size of you—unceremoniously plops itself onto your face. But it doesn't just rest there. The entire WEIGHT of this human is pushing the naked bottom down, smothering you. The bottom's cheeks fold over your eyes, and your nose is forced into the darkest, deepest region of this person's anus.
BREATHE. Breathe deep, this terrible, horrible anus.
The smell is overpowering—dank, fetid fecal matter. You are consumed by it. Within seconds, it is all you know. You're enveloped in a pitch-black world of noxious, overwhelming stool. Yet this horror is just the beginning—quickly you feel another disconcerting texture on your face: hair. It's short, coarse, curly hair—coated with dried remnants of the aforementioned droppings—scraping, exfoliating your cheeks. And then? When you can't imagine your panic getting any worse? Here comes the SWEAT. This not only reactivates the gag-inducing smells you were finally getting accustomed to, but lubricates the entire area, allowing this rancid, now moist bottom to slide up and down your face—allowing just the slightest, momentary gasp of life-giving oxygen before again plunging your face deeply into this shit-filled, malodorous orifice.
This goes on for HOURS.