At the weekend in a brief lull when we got tired of discussing Wittgenstein, a friend of mine commented that they’d never seen their own *. Which it was generally agreed was a pretty extraordinary thing – to get to your late twenties and manage to not have viewed a piece of your own body that you’ve been carting around since the moment you were born. Which led onto the discussion of whether there were any other parts you might not have seen (we decided only one – behind your ears).
Then the discussion got FLIPPED and she pointed out that to have seen your * you’d have to have done something a bit weird – there’s no casual way of just stumbling across a squizz. There has to be some sort of contortion - or mirror - or photography/video involved. Which means, at some point, you have to have deliberately been a weirdy and tried to cop a peak.
Which means the world is divided almost entirely into two types of horrible people – perverts who have tried to squat over a mirror (or similar) in an effort to look at their own bumhole, and prudes who haven’t bothered, which in some ways is even stranger.
Which one are YOU
*lord kitchener pointing*
(wittgenstein chat also welcome)