snuf

An Accidental Snuffleupagus Sighting.

Our last vacation did me in.  Well, it was a work-vacation thingy.  Basically, I tried to sneak as much work into the beginning of the week as possible and then on Saturday Wifesy arrived.  Between Sunday and Tuesday we tried to vacation.  By Sunday we had the hang of it.

 

By Monday, we were in paradise.  Literally.  And then by Tuesday we had to leave.  Honestly, I don’t think I’m back yet…in my head.

 

But, as our bodies drove back to the city from paradise, I said to Wifesy, “You know, I always thought guys had bigger units on average.”

 

“What do you mean?” asked Wifesy without a degree of concern.

 

“Well, you know, I’ve never seen them all lined up like that and the status quo is small, if you ask me.”

 

“Yeah, I know what you mean,” she said.  “There was only one guy that was slightly above average.”

 

“The blonde!” I yelled hitting the steering wheel.

 

“Yeah, he had long blonde hair…”

 

“And maybe a goatee…”

 

“Yep, that was him,” I smiled.

 

…which begs the question, just where, in the feck, did we vacation?

 

We went to a “spa” of sorts.  You can only book the place last minute.  So, once we decided to go for it, we were in for the full monty.  Pun intended.  (Hold your horses, I’m getting to the peckers part, ladies and gents.  I know what you want.  You want to hear about the chorizo, the snausage, the Johnson, the fluata, the disco stick, the compass…I get it, I get it.)

 

Well, we booked this last minute “spa” because I love internet research.  I found a place that is a throw back to the hippie communities of the 50s and 60s, at least as I imagine them in and around California.  This was a place about equidistant from San Francisco and LA.  It’s a place meant to serve as an escape for city dwellers.  It’s meant to look like paradise.

 

 

It does.  However, I booked the thing for its amenities.  There was the heated pool overlooking the Pacific ocean.  There were three vegetarian meals cooked for you a day in the lodge.  Then there were the rustic rooms also with a view out into the Pacific.  And lastly, the hot springs.  Sulfur springs set in a concrete building down a path from the main lawn.  It was here that we saw the swizzle sticks in all their glory.  The baths, all concrete, and looking out over the sea, were “clothing optional.”  Now, Wifesy and I are the adventurous sort.  So, we figured, let the hippies go naked.  We can handle it.  As long as we can wear bathing suits, as long as it’s not “naked mandatory,” who gives a feck what other people do.

 

Oddly, the women didn’t bother us.  I mean, the naked ones, they barely registered.  It felt like being in a health club locker room.  A tit here, a vag there, as one reaches across the sinks to grab at the blow dryer, it’s all typical, normal stuff in a gym.  But, the swinging night sticks.  I don’t think we understood in the front part of our brains that they would also be dancing about on display.  I think when we heard the term “clothing optional” the weeping willow branches seemed more like Snuffleupagus.  More like something that was a theory as opposed to a reality.  You’d know they existed, but you’d probably never catch sight of them.

 

Not true.  Snuffleupagus – and his entire army of loosely held batons – seemed tired of being hidden out back by the garbage cans only to be seen by “Big Bird.”  He was coming out.  He was making himself known.

 

You will see me!

 

Now, everyone is very respectful in the baths.  After a while, Wifesy and I even let a tit out here and a vag out there.  What surprised me the most was this…without even staring, we noticed the length of their human-hems, so to speak.  For the most part, they were all wearing the equivalent of fleshy, short-shorts, while Blondie (and Blondie alone) sported some longer, bolder, capris.

 

Okay, let’s cut the salami, we noticed their dick size!  Good lawd, do I have to hit you over the head with a frying pan to make this point?

 

So, yes, fellas, women notice the size.  I’m not saying it matters, especially to the lesbos, but it gets noted.  Perhaps, back before we had language this is how we all spoke.  Picture, the women handing out spears just before a big hunt.  One woman nudges the other and says with her eyes, “Give the blonde one the bigger spear.”  Her mother smacks her and says, “That one he has stick big enough already.  Don’t be greedy.”

 

Maybe.  I don’t know.  And yes, this entire post was meant to lead up to one thing – a nickname for Richard.  I am very proud.  Tomorrow, I’ll talk about the lady part that rhymes with Madge.  Just to make things even.

 

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Photo creds:

snuffle1, snuffle-feature, paradise, hotsprings

 

23 thoughts on “An Accidental Snuffleupagus Sighting.

  1. I want to go to this place…and perhaps when you see a bunch they seem smaller? OR maybe you were there for small weenie week? Great post!

    1. i would LOVE to see YOUR post on this place…esalen. if you are ever on the west coast, don’t miss it. you’ll love it. maybe for different reasons, but still… love. lol. seriously, thanks for reading it, la la. xo, sm

      1. Oh my freaking god!!! I was just in Big Sur and drove by Esalen a billion times and was all “I wonder what that place is about?” Oh man, I wish we’d gone. Especially when I found out that if you’re not staying there you can still fork over $20 for the hot springs. . . but only between 1 am and 3 am! How random is that?

    1. my pleasure, margs. i’m just back from vaykay and i’m working on the first day without coffee. so, that means intermittently, i’m in the fetal position. lol. i appreciate you reading what may have been my muddled thoughts. much love, sm

  2. Sounds nice. The spa and three-prepared meals bit…the peen not so much. I once did a story about an annual nudist convention and I just couldn’t get over the barreled-stomach men with their tiny little appendages. They would wear shirts and let their dongs hang in the breeze.

    1. okay, i read “annual nudist convention” as “anal nudist convention” and i was like christ, how in the hell does that work. it’s my first morning off coffee and i tell you, i’m barely hangin on. there weren’t a lot of fat dudes here, for some reason. but, lots of sandals and thank god they clean the hot tub thingies a lot because i’m sure it’s a pube palace. ugh. sm

    1. you mean like erector sets? wait, that can’t be the spelling… you know what i mean. it was an experience, let me tell you. thankfully, the women far out numbered the men when we were there and none of them got in our tub. one attempted too and then hesitated – i think – because he saw wifesy was snoozing…which, i actually thought was kind of nice of him to be so kind while his weiner schnitzel was out. most dudes can’t focus when bare tits are out an about. let me re-phrase – most american dudes… lest all the the readers i have in saint tropez have a freakout. lol. xoxo, sm

  3. The hippie, feel good thing I like and moms, your descriptions are hilarious. I do think you’re a braver soul than I would be. I’m just uncomfortable sitting around with a bunch of people showing their stuff. I don’t know where to look. And let’s face it, like the Seinfeld episode: women naked good, men naked bad. And I like men. Well one very, very much anyway. ;).

    1. i’m telling you, it’s odd at first. but, then everyone is so, i don’t know, respectful…that before you knew it we both had our tits out. odd. because we both said we wouldn’t. and because i think we would have preferred it to be bathing suits on entirely. but, it was the best hot springs in the area and i wasn’t missing it for nuthing. even if it came with a side of unwanted-visual-peen. maybe the first time i’ve said that phrase. looool. much love, sm

      1. I went to hot springs with a group of girlfriends once for a few hours. Same thing, we went in with bathing suits, but before long they were history. I don’t know what is it about hot springs but they are just better naked, and not in a sexual way, just in a pleasant way.

  4. We Americans are prudish, i think. Hubby has traveled to different countries and it’s not such a big thing. Visual-peen, good lawd, woman you give me new phrases. Wine helps.

  5. I’ve heard other people say that about nude beaches too, that they’re basically wrinkly wang conventions. But not in a good way. Seeing female dangly bits doesn’t bother me, and in the right setting, seeing male dangly bits is AWESOME. However, seeing a bunch of fat guys and their little jumblies is just unsavory.

  6. Seeing as David Sedaris is considered a God on this website, there’s no need for me to recommend his hysterical book “Naked”, but your post did bring it to mind. My limited experience with clothing optional beaches has only included topless ones. I think it’s safe to day that most of us, male and female, look better in some sort of swim-wear.

    Hippies and other naked strangers can be fun in limited doses.

  7. This is why those of us who like dangling parts and stare (yes we do) wish men would not wear speedos into the ocean! Unless they actually have something to brag about it makes them all appear they have mushrooms nestling in their forests, all of which is displayed for us to point at, talk about and ultimately reject.

    Yes, size sometimes does matter. Especially on vacation dammit.

  8. I think it must just be me but I much prefer my men clothed in public. Nice broad shoulders in a shirt. Tick. A nice butt in well tailored pants. Tick. But the full monty? That’s like looking at a clock and only seeing the little hand that counts off the seconds…

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