Would You Pose Nude For A Mag?

I’ve always regarded myself as a bit of a looker, and luckily my girlfriends room is coated with mirrors, so my herculean frame is constantly gracing the walls of our abode. I was fortunate enough to awake yesterday morning and come face-to-face with, if I don’t say so myself, the pinnacle of human form. My roundish belly had crinkled into 6 perfect rolls, also known as the Amstel six pack. My toe nails were unclipped, my face grisly with patchy stubble, bloodshot eyes  and a smell emanating from my mouth that was used to gas jews in the forties. Oh, and a 12 inch cock. I smiled wryly at this conglomeration of excellence and came to the conclusion that it is simply not right for me to keep this all to myself. I must share this gift with the world, give others a chance to wake every morning and see a life-size naked portrait of me on the wall. Fuck Jungle Oats, that’s how you start your day! And while I sat dreaming of this beautiful world I did consider the magnitude of my mental proclamation; would I be able to whip my kit off for the camera? Would my gran be able to behold the enormity of such awesomeness and still remain coma-free? But most importantly; could I walk down the street knowing that 1 in 3 people have seen my enormous man stallion? And is that why some dude in a low cut pink top is covertly trying to mouth me his phone number?

The notion that bearing your dermis likens you to  cracked up prozzies and dicked up kiddie fiddlers was heartily dismissed by softcore icons of the 90’s. I could say the words “Anna Nicole Smith” before I got my milk teeth and Jenny Mcarthy taught me how to truly love… at age 10. These were women who revolutionized modern sexual philosophy and expelled the taboo that whipping your kit off for cash was sleazy. Most recently PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, organized a mass celebrity strip-off with the line “I’d rather go naked than wear fur”. With stars like Eva Mendes, Holly Madison and Jessica Simpson embellishing Playboy’s pages; I’d rather they would be too. Contemporary published nudity has actually become trendy, leaving mortal’s such as myself at least considering a pantsless Facebook profile.


Then you have the other side of erotic glamour: stanky minge. Often heroes of celebrity culture venture down a rocky path of self-exposure and find themselves in less than favorable positions. Leonardo Dicaprio managed to merge himself with Elton John to form the gayest piece of man tail George Michael hadnt tied up and called pretty. His stint for Playgirl in his early days left me unsure if I was looking at Leo in all his glory, or Hilary Duff with a penis. The shoot was widely berated in the press and got the lashing it so rightfully deserved.  Helen Miren is a queen, a most honourable dame and indubitably a filthy little sex heathen. At 60 she spread her cheeks of wisdom and let the world inside her most special place causing quite a stir among the lawn bowls community. The supposed granny of the screen joined other “burlesque” failures like Chris Pontius of Jackass acclaim, shock rapper and part time cannibal Lil Kim, English cricketers and albino spokespersons Freddy Flintof and James Anderson  and finally Mini Me himself; Vern Troyer.

So would I transcend the bounds of nipple tassels and centerfolds? Could I really? Well soon after my 16th birthday I designed the first ever black man thong for teens and casually pranced my way through GrandWest Casino; giving even the most hopeless gambler a jackpot. My nude frame was on show for about a thousand people for just over  5 minutes. However that image is now privy to those fortunate few. Theres no current photographic evidence, no substantiation of my gargantuan meat hammer locked in a timeless vault. It was one-off and inspirational for many, if I don’t say so myself. I think some flashes are ok, but to openly reveal yourself to a camera is something not quite up my street. Its personal choice, but I’m going to be keeping my pantsless behind out of the press and in the aforementioned mirrored room. Oh, and to stay away from Jack Daniels and photographic equipment at the same time is generally a good plan for me.


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    1. Hey Liesl, have you seen the rest of what this guy has done on MCBN – We love Stroobs’ filth!

  1. haha Stroob!!!

    For me, its entirely dependent on whether its full on with a boner or tasteful and arty like those crappy cricketers you’ve pictured (although a cricket bat in front of your nuts is hardly a picasso).

  2. Stroobs your handsome frame in its little black thong was a sight to behold and, that I was fortunate enough to be privy to that image, be it rather short, is a sight I will carry in my memory for ever.!!!!!!!!!! Great article as always..

  3. Great article stroob! However, there is one small error – I’m afraid there is photographic evidence of the Grandwest Nude Gauntlet Saga. A fateful image of your pale cellulite-ridden buttocks burned into both my memory and my hard-drive forever. Watch this space… all will soon be revealed 🙂

  4. stroobs, the priviledged few who were so blessed to see your near-naked form skipping through Grand West in about 2002, included yours truly and some very unimpressed security guards if i remember correctly – and you did win a bet for your troubles! 🙂

    ps i think that the security at GW probably have some video or photographic proof of your spoof!

    you inspired me!

  5. I almost feel like a missed out on an EPIC event by not being there to behold the sight for myself at GW…
    But by some of the comments, I almost think that maybe, just maybe I’m fortunate not to have been there 🙂

    Ah SS, what will be do with you… *shaking my head*

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