With this one, I don't even kno if it's real or not. Could be either way. Either those jokesters, those Knobbers had their way wtih some silliness, or there was really such a place. It was the 70s, man, and I'd believe anything. They say if you can remember the early 70s, you weren't there. Knob remembers! I think that's havlf the reason we even invented print, to keep score when we'd get wasted. I mean, shit, i can't trust my own memory even when i'm sober half the time. I dunno about being nude all day, either. I spill a lot of stuff on myself. Hot coffee's no joy, but would be a hunnerd times worse on your scrote. I can't even imagine what would turn up on my belly button after a day in my birthday suit. And man, I had enough awkward boners in high school. I don't even want to consider what sorts of embarssments I'd rack up out in public. Is that roadkill? Does anybody smell that? Hey, this guy's hard over here! Hard from the scent of decay and death. No thanks, I don't need that. Even thinkin' a this scenario is gonna stop me getting hard for a week.
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