Feb 5, 2009
I am dismayed to find that neglecting to apply soap to my calves whilst in the shower distresses my peers. It has been asserted by these goodly folk that the calves require as much sanitary attention as the remainder of mine vessel. But I argue that it is sufficient to allow soap suds from my well lathered nether regions to run down my calves, cleansing that supple flesh.
Lest you're an archaeologist searching for lost scrolls in Qumran dressed in olive drab short pants, how much filth can your calves acquire? It is my conclusion that anywhere below the thighs and above the socks is as clean as the Queen's fine china, and it's an economical use of the soap. Though a Queen doesn't need to be frugal. She has vats of pillaged gold coins she's takes from her subjects.
How can these "friends" of mine be so distraught over the cleanliness of my fibula while the aristocracy tear babes from their mother's breast to spit roast them at their bacchanalian feasts! That is an atrocity to be distressed about. That is something that needs to be cleansed, washed away from this wretched earth! Kill the Queen and stone her children, let her eat cake! Eat the rich fuck their dogs! Hurrah hurrah!
You don't need to wash your calves, cuz they don't get dirty.
Posted by Ghost Dads Dad at 11:26 AM