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Hey, it’s Sammy Sportface. Let me share with you a little private secret but don’t share it with anyone else.
You see, I’m almost totally, well, you know, like, well, nuuuuuuuuuuuddde.
In my skimpy and super-tight boxers, I sit, all bulging out with the breeze blowing in and making everything a little bit cooler and not so hot and sweaty.
Know the feeling? It’s better than cramming a 16-ounce box of Fiddle Faddle down my esophagus, more sensuous than a Sammy Sportface poem, almost beyond anyone’s ability to fathom since the day of the gladiators and Vikings in the seven hundred A.D.
This virtual nudeness has been my daily schtick ever since the work-from-home tidal wave pummeled the world and disrupted global markets in early 2020. From that first day living in the new paradigm, I woke up and, haphazardly, almost robotically, slipped into some rather disgusting and war-torn boxers.
For minutes then hours then days then weeks then months then years, I lived in, for all intents and purposes, abject nudity.
On Zoom calls and writing Sammy Sportface blogs and when recording the now-defunct Sammy Sportface and Spars podcasts, I would hang out in a chair with nothing on, and it was during these times that I’ve never felt more intoxicated by the freedom that life bestows on all of us.
I was almost nude and nobody could stop me.
Think of the benefits. You go to the bathroom and there’s no need to take any clothes off or deal with zippers because all you need is to slip the boxers off or open the little slot thing in front and you can do your business.
You don’t need to go to any stores to buy clothes which is great because that’s boring and a waste of time and money. You cut your monthly and miscellaneous expenses by at least 68 percent by wearing nothing but underwear 24/7. It’s like sinking a Nothing But Net shot in basketball – a perfect swish.
When people invite you to their house for cocktails or a barbecue, you can just tell them you don’t have any clothes to wear except your underwear and that won’t be lying because it’s the truth.
And they certainly won’t think that’s appropriate for you to show up in undies for their sophisticated party so it‘s best you decline and get to stay in your humble abode listen to some music like Carol King’s “It’s Too Late Baby” or Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb” or “Play That Funky Music” by The Average White Band.
When your family has a reunion and wants you to attend you can say fine, you’ll be there, but you’re coming in your underwear and then they’ll say never mind and you won’t have to do that either and instead get to sit at home all relaxed hanging out in solemnity.
Until one day something important happens. You have to go to the Wake Forest football game and they don’t allow men or women to just show up in their underwater and with good reason because can you imagine how far out those football games would be especially if all the players wore underwear and nothing else also.
So it’s either you put on something appropriate or you can’t go watch the Demon Deacons play football.
So you make a quick switch. You head off to the game sporting nothing else but your Wake Forest University jockstrap.
Author Profile
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Sammy Sportface, a sports blogger, galvanizes, inspires, and amuses The Baby Boomer Brotherhood. And you can learn about his vision and join this group's Facebook page here:
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