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He randomly drops his pants.

October 20, 2009

Anyone who knows LO closely can pick three things out of a police line-up: His obnoxious oversized Jeep with all the trimmings, his famous garlic bread and his fine ass.

Because, as much as he loves to drive around blasting self-made barking noises through his PA system at random groupings of strangers at the bus stop (followed by a head-turn that demonstrates that he himself alsoe does not know where the noise is coming from), and as much as he loves everything in sandwich form, this boy loves to expose himself in front of loved ones.

In places one typically wouldn’t expect to see a naked ass.

Case in point: That giant ferris wheel thing at Niagara Falls.

We took the ride up alone and, while I was busy enjoying the view from the top, LO decides to casually take off his pants. And dance-shake his rear-end into the glass windows. And wave. Then casually sit down pant-less for the rest of the ride until we make it back to the bottom. And realize, as the ride operators give us distinctly evil cut-eye, that they probably have cameras up there.

But maybe you’re thinking that it was, after all, summer time. Maybe he was just hot up there. Maybe he needed to freshen up. Maybe he was just warm.

Case in point number two: Blue Mountain. In late November.

We spent a weekend at the resort for his birthday but, since the ski hills weren’t operational yet, we decided instead to climb up the hill ourselves to check out the view.

It took forever. I was tired. I was wearing my platform boots (smart!). And the view was breathtaking from the top. And when I snapped a photo of LO in front of it and he did the same for me, I thought our work was done.

Until he started to roll down the hill. Head over feet. Screaming like a little girl. Tumbletumbletumble. And dropped his pants right at the end.

The camera was still on.

(This was only one of many glorious home videos ruined – or at least unviewable by most people – because this character decided to expose his goods right at the end, as a signoff!)

But my favorite story, hands down, is the night he got a little tipsy in Jamaica.

It was the end of the night, and we were making our way back to the room when LO decided he would play in the fountain. Which meant that his pants got wet.

Now, for a normal specimen, this would indicate some emberassement and a walk back to the room to get changed.

But, for LO, it meant a good opportunity to take your pants off almost near the lobby, throw them across your arm, and casually walk back to the room in your underwear (not swimming trunks).

Except this master plan got side-tracked a little the second LO realized how Tarzan-esque he looked up against the plants at the resort. He grabbed some into his hands, and insisted on a tribal photo near one of the big fan-like ones.

Problem, though: He WAS a little shy about it.

So much so, that we spent about an hour hiding him out behind some kind of a shack, with his plant weapons in hand, giggling, and jumping out every time the “coast was clear” of any people walking by.

It went something like this:

He would hide.

I would walk out near the big plant and look both ways. If people passed by, I would smile and say hi and pretend I was not hiding a half-naked man a few feet away.

Then, I would give the signal that the coast was clear. And LO would move like the speed of lightening, making silly poses. Sometimes I would have to send him back, aborting the mission, once people came our way again.

I don’t think I ever laughed so hard, though I did have a startling realization somewhere in the middle there that I was no longer just the innocent, emberassed girlfriend.

I was an accomplice.

At the end of it all, we ended up with these gems:

P.S. I feel a little dirty posting these photos — I feel like there should be a paid link attached! But if you know LO, this is nothing you haven’t already seen before. In person.

Lucky you.

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