Hommes, Hombres, Uomini, Männer, Men

“Oh, hi dad…Why don’t I have on a shirt?… No, I don’t have on any underpants, either…Well, the truth is, my Levi’s were the only thing I could get back on in short order before you seen me…Hell, they aren’t even buttoned…”

“Normally I’m wearing a kilt, but I decided just to wear the traditional underpants today. Sorry to ruin the stereotype expectations for ya.”

“Yes, it’s true, I’m buck naked right now. You’re not getting a look at the good stuff because mama is watching this broadcast. Shhh!! She still thinks I always have on something, you know, even in bed.”

Broadway goes to Oklahoma…

“Damn! Those really are some outrageous shorts. I’m most curious about that flappy looking thing. What’s under all that?”

The contemporary plumber is no longer satisfied just squatting down to show a gap of their upper ass crack. Now he lays on his back and leaves a gap on the crotch side.

That’s a massive continuation of a thick pubic bush.

Michael tries to be discreet, but he still manages to get a distinct glans bulge in his shorts.

“I feel like you’re staring at me…at my crotch, to be precise. Needless to say, it is an essential part of the overall package.”

A narcissist, Derrick scrolls thru his list of guys who find him irresistibly attractive, while contemplating which one he’d like to have come over to adore and worship him. And if that doesn’t work, he’ll just go admire himself in the mirror.

Gotta love 1977 when they had short shorts, and shirts cut off above the waist.

“I gotta get out of these wet muddy clothes. You’re not bothered by seeing my junk, are you?”