MR
was telling me today that he just ordered a custom seat for his
motorcycle. He said this one is more
like a saddle, where “you sit in it, rather than on it.” He was describing the process of how they
make the seat, which requires not only sending in your old seat, but also
sending in pictures and measurements of your backside.
I
couldn’t help it, I had to ask him how he was taking pictures of his backside,
imagining him trying to do a butt selfie.
And he replied that he had to have his wife do it. This of course set off a series of images in
my mind of MR posing, jutting his backside out and instructing his wife on how
to get the best angle to make his backside more flattering. I started imagining MR doing a model shoot
with his wife saying things like, “That’s it, that’s it, work it…the camera
loves you!” or “Come on, give me more steam…it’s steamy…you’re hot…show me hot!”
or “Ride that motorcycle…ride it…show me what a baaaad man you are!”
I
was laughing so hard, I was crying. MR
looked at me like I had lost my mind.
Apparently, he just had to sit on the motorcycle, and she snapped a few pictures,
so they could see his posture and style.
But I think my imaginings are better.
