I don’t know if ya noticed or not, but Hot Dog Man isn’t, doesn’t, chooses to forgo, wearing any pants. I though about that one for a while, but I guess he just wouldn’t be the same with his best part all covered up. But all of him is good, with the bottom being no better (or different) from the top. I guess the bottom line is: he doesn’t have any genitals, so what’s there to hide? Perhaps he’s gender neutral. He’s not gay. He does reek of pheromones. Nope, he’s a man alright. Hot Dog Man! He is, his best part.
Okay, enough of this fascination with H D’s weenie. Do you ever wonder what it would be like to walk around all day with no pants on like Hot Dog Man? I sure do, and wish I could. But if I went outside, got lost and wound-up in public, I’d be arrested for indecent exposure, and nobody wants to see that.
I could do it in my backyard. It’s fairly large, deep, secluded, with neighbors on only one side. And if a neighbor did see me in the buff, they’d probably think. “Wow, old Hansi is out there in his garden again, looking at his medical plants for the hundredth time today.” Besides, I’m naked when I go in the hot tub [One just does not wear a bathing suit when doing some So Cal hydro therapy], so what’s the big deal?
Sorry for the distraction. I was really gonna talk about cartooning, and how much fun these quick pencil drawings have been, freeing me up artistically. I’m truly enjoying it, and hope you are too. It’s almost as much fun as walking around with no pants on.