It’s my favorite book club, celebrating Thanksgiving in the nude at a restaurant in Manhattan. Nope, I wasn’t there. Maybe next year.
“It is a wonderful feeling to share the holiday with people you care about,” wrote the ladies of the Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society. “Getting to share it naked in the heart of Manhattan makes it even better. We wish all of you could have the same opportunity, wherever you might be — if not this time around, then sometime in the not-too-distant future.”
It’s those wild and whacky dames from The Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society on a field trip to Manhattan’s Museum of Sex (since it’s too cold to go topless in New York City). Yet hanging off a cock wasn’t the high point of the excursion. (And, I blush to admit, I wasn’t aware NYC has a sex museum.)
“But the centerpiece (and the reason we really wanted to come) is a bouncy castle made of giant inflated breasts. Points to the designers for diversity: the place has a variety of shades and colors. But it’s the size of the things that really impresses — you instantly feel dwarfed, returned to infancy or, to be more bookish about it, like Gulliver in Gulliver’s Travels, straddling the Brobdingnagian girls’ gargantuan nipples. (What, you don’t remember that scene from the cartoon version? It’s in the book, trust us.)”
Gee, I wish I could do nude yoga. I mean, with other people. (Of course, at home I do yoga in the nude.) The ladies at the The Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society in New York City get to have all the nude fun.