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NO NUDES IS GOOD NUDES

Dear Delphi,

I was out and about in London the other day when the World Naked Bike Ride went whizzing and flapping and jiggling by me. It was one big disgusting pink blob on wheels! Maybe I am a prude, but I don’t think that people should be biking in public in the nude. I don’t think they should be doing ANYTHING in public in the nude. What do you think? I am really upset/angry about the whole thing, but at the same time I wonder whether I am actually boring and extremely closed-minded, because nobody else seemed bothered.

—No Nudes in London

Dear No Nudes in London,

It is totally inappropriate to be doing any activity in the nude in public: biking, walking, and especially jumping rope. In fact, there are laws against it. If just one lonely person was biking in the nude, they would be stopped by the police and carted off, but if it is 100 naked idiots on bikes and they have most likely asked permission, suddenly it is less indecent because it is for a cause. I don’t know who is stupider—the people on the bikes or the people who allow it! The fact that they think they are accomplishing anything except a really bad sunburn is hilarious. Nobody is going to remember the cause; they will only remember naked idiots on bikes. So I don’t think you are a prude, boring, or closed-minded. Instead, you are clothes-minded, as they should be, too. Why should your eyes be assaulted by hundreds of naked body parts that you didn’t consent to see? Don’t these nude protesters realize the risks involved with their actions? They could give a sweet old lady walking her dog a heart attack. From the sounds of it, they could give the dog a heart attack! Not only is it yucky, it is dangerous. Say no to nude protests. Everyone should be clothed in public—many people in double layers!

BIRD-DOGGING BROTHER

Dear Delphi,

My brother stole my girlfriend. Me and that girl had been dating for two years and while I was out of town doing him a favor, he steals her. It has been a year since then, and I refuse to speak to him or to my mother. She has not totally taken his side, but she is still helping him financially; meanwhile she does not even throw a lucky penny in my direction. OK, great, peachy, as if I did not have enough trouble, now friends are on my case to make peace—as if it was my goddamn fault! I have gotten over some of my anger, probably enough to be decent, but I still don’t want to talk to either of them. What do you think I should do?

—Cuckold in Catalina