FROM THE DESK OF DOCTOR B. D. SEPTIVE: The Most Self-Helpiest of all Self-Help Gurus
You must ask yourself, “Why am I here and who the hell are these people on the covers of all the supermarket tabloids? If someone is rich does that make him a celebrity or just annoying? If someone is on a reality TV show does that make her a celebrity or just pathetic? If someone is naked do we have to hear about it over and over again? You’d think nobody was ever naked.
Well, six months ago I spoke with the Reverend J.J. Pootface and he told me about the church he founded called the Nobody is Ever Allowed to be Naked Sanctuary. Rev. Pootface said people’s obsession with nudity is killing the country, the world, the universe. He stated that if nobody was ever allowed to be naked the world would be a much better place.
Of course he had to fight off attacks from the strip club lobby and certain nudist camps. But, eventually, the strip clubs decided to declare themselves and their activities a religion. Now, in several states, they enjoy tax free status. But in order for the strip clubs to be considered churches, they had to convince the government that being nude is a religious belief. In so doing, the club owners painted themselves into a corner. To get tax free status, everyone in the clubs had to be nude at all times, including the owners, managers, waitresses, cooks, bartenders, and patrons. On a positive note, it forced those in the kitchen to serve healthier food. The nude cooks refused to prepare anything that had to deep fried. Besides that, the expression “there’s a fly in my soup” took on a whole new meaning.
At first things seemed to be working out great for the new Churches of Inspiration to the Uncovered Skin (COITUS) but, alas, they were doomed to failure. It didn’t take long before the dancers were sickened to the point of illness from seeing their customers in the buff. It’s one thing to give a lap dance to a big, smelly guy with a cigar in his mouth but it is entirely different to give the same lap dance to the same big, smelly guy with hairy rolls of fat exposed and perspiration dripping down his torso with nothing to absorb it.
The patrons didn’t seem to mind. In a disturbing development, most of the nude churches doubled their customer base overnight. Not only that, but each patron spent twice as much on drinks as they had previously. So, with twice as many customers, each buying twice as many drinks, profits were up substantially. It was the dancers who couldn’t take it. After all the girls quit, the club owners decided to hire guys from the audience to dance. Most of the patrons were so drunk they never even noticed, until that fateful night.
At one of the nude churches in Ogelthigh, Mississippi, Blaine Headsfree was gyrating to the sounds of Lady Magagonna’s “Don’t Put That There” when his bikini bottom ripped and his entire manhood fell out. There it was for all to see. Blaine didn’t notice right away, but soon patrons began throwing beer, cigars, and furniture in his direction. Because it was cigar night, there were more lit cigars thrown than anything else, thus causing the club to burn down along with most of Ogelthigh.
Finally, the patrons realized they had been had. When news of the tragedy spread throughout the country, every nude church had plastered patrons protesting and running onstage to pull the bikini briefs off the dancers. Every exposed mansack caused another riot until nude churches had gone the way of the Edsel, the enclosed phone booth, and polite talk radio.