To my chagrin, I learn that it was back on June 12th that I promised you "Topless and Literary in NYC". Well, here I am, finally keeping my word:
Doesn't she have a lovely smile? She is a member of an esteemed literary society nom-de-plume'd "The Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society". The ladies (and a few selected gents) blog at http://coedtoplesspulpfiction.wordpress.com/, and they have a philosophy, even. They say it's not right that men can go shirtless and women can't - and the NY law agrees with them (equal protection under the law, sans doute.)
Doesn't she have a lovely smile? She is a member of an esteemed literary society nom-de-plume'd "The Outdoor Co-ed Topless Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society". The ladies (and a few selected gents) blog at http://coedtoplesspulpfiction.wordpress.com/, and they have a philosophy, even. They say it's not right that men can go shirtless and women can't - and the NY law agrees with them (equal protection under the law, sans doute.)
Here's an extract:
“Nothing like a 90-degree day to make
you want to spend some time shirtless in the sun, and that’s true
whether you’re a woman or a man. Thankfully, we live in New York
City, where women and men have the equal right to do it.
Ten of us made the trek out to the
little sylvan grotto in Central Park known as “Strawberry Fields,”
near where John Lennon lived and died, and yes, there really are tiny
strawberries growing there in the grass. (No, we didn’t eat any.)
Strawberry Fields Forever... |
Several birds came to say hello, also one tiny slug. We
got curious looks from several school groups and packs of tourists
who walked past on the path beyond the fence, and a visit from two
friendly police officers who said they told someone who complained to
them about us that we were entirely within our rights and didn’t
have to do anything different. Chalk one up for the NYPD.”
John would have loved it!
I was going to get pedantic, and suggest that maybe the girls read too many detective stories - even suggest a wider reading horizon, which might include Herman Hesse's "Siddhartha", Edward Abbey's "Desert Solitaire", Richard Bach's "Illusions" - maybe not "The Naked Lunch", though....
But they are called the Pulp Fiction Appreciation Society, so I'd better hold my peace.
Please visit their Blog - and, speaking as one whose local nude beach was taken away by prudes - best wishes to them!
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