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Tuesday, June 17, 2003

They Sure Don't Make Streakers Like They Used To
Unlike most subjects I broach on this site, streaking is a topic I know something about. The definition of streaking was, is and always shall be to run naked. Naked as the day you were born. Naked as George Michael at a rest stop. Naked as Osama with his herd of goats.

Like George Costanza, who didn't have the nads to run across Yankee Stadium without wearing a nude-colored bodysuit, the GoldenPalace.com girl with the big yams who interrupted Sunday's U.S. open final round on the 11th hole is not a streaker.

The reason: pasties. Sorry, that's not streaking. That's trespassing.

Was I wearing pasties when I blew a whistle to get everyone's attention on my first day of spring break at South Padre Island in 1993, just before running naked through the hotel's pool area? No. Was I wearing anything other than sneakers when I ran in front of the same hippie, acid-blues band on Fourth of July three years in a row? No. (On year three, I needed the sneakers to outrun a pack of fat security men — and my video-taping friend — at 3 a.m. To be fair, they were playing I Party Naked.)

Was Larry Dallas wearing anything but a bear-skin rug on his chest when he ran through a Three's Company party to bust up Terry's chances of moving in with Jack and Janet? No. (Honk three times if you like what you see!)

I'm willing to give this chick another shot. God knows I wouldn't mind losing a couple of balls in her rough. But let's get one thing perfectly clear: she is not a streaker. Stacked, yes. For sale, yes. Patriotic, yes. Streaker, no.

(Also note: Our friend and sassy porn blogger The Reverse Cowgirl is on the hunt for more photos and video of the U.S. Open trespasser.)

Other T&A Artistic Beauty Links:

Club Rubber Party Photos — I will also have a soft spot in my heart — and a hard spot in my pants — for the SoCal party photo collections that was the backbone of my T&A finds in the first couple of years of PK.com. (Speaking of pasties...)

Barely Brooke — E!'s online gallery of the woman who headed my list of favorite MILFs, Brooke Burke. Oh, mommie dearest!

The Mammoth Book of Illustrated Erotica — Our weekly pick of a sex-related product on Amazon.com. This one is 512 pages of tits and ass. The funny part is that the long-winded and artsy-sounding book description mentions nothing about masturbation.

Win Tickets to Hef's Midsummer Night's Dream Party — Same rules as always. You win, you take me. (By the way, is anyone else suspicious that Hugh Hefner might not be alive, but rather exists only as a cardboard cutout that gets passed around the mansion for photo-ops?)

Category: Web Finds | Permalink | Post a Comment (9)


Comments: They Sure Don't Make Streakers Like They Used To

The funny part is that I have been checking pk.com on a regular basis since the end of the Open because I knew if I could find a pic of her, it would be here. For a while I thought you were letting us down, but you came through as usual.

Posted by CEB at June 17, 2003 8:00 AM

you mustn't forget will ferrell in his breakout streaking performance from old school!!

Posted by erin at June 17, 2003 9:42 AM

The Reverse Cowgirl has revealing information of the not-fully revealing "trespasser."

Posted by Paul Katcher at June 17, 2003 3:35 PM

Yeah... I had planned to blog about this... but couldn't find a good picture. Just some horrible stills from the TV coverage.

Posted by CJ at June 17, 2003 5:42 PM

Streaking is a beautiful thing. Nothing makes me laugh more than witnessing someone run naked through a public place. I witnessed this first hand in 1993 during the Phillies World Series. In Philadelphia, a large breasted woman streaked onto the field. Unfortunately, it was not during play and did not make it on television. Nothing gets a crowd roaring like a streaker...She was the most exciting thing to happen with the Phillies during that whole series. What is even funnier is watching the 400 lb. security guards chase streakers.

My only brush with public nudity was the time that I had ice seats at a 1995 Flyers game. My friends and I had been on an all day binger at the Dickens Inn in Philly. My excessive alcohol consumption gave me some courage, and I pressed my bare breasts up against the glass during regulation play to distract the NJ Devils (I was briefly successful) and to grab the attention of Rod Brind'Amour (again, successful). I was 23, hot with fabulous breasts. Alas, Spectrum security did not find this as humorous and my friends and I were escorted out of the stadium. The crowd was cheering for me and so were the players on the ice, but it still bought us a one way ticket out of the game. In return the Flyers lost.

Posted by Cass at June 17, 2003 11:16 PM

Streaking Hall of Fame.

Posted by Paul Katcher at June 18, 2003 1:54 AM

I saw my first streaker at a high school graduation in 1974. I sat right behind him in the audience. He jumped up, dropped his overalls, and took off. I was only nine, but I will never forget it.
Don't look Ethel!
I think every graduation had a streaker in 1974.

Posted by PeeWee at June 18, 2003 3:24 PM

is streaking something normal to golf tournaments? i mean, i don't normally watch golf on tv (i really thought it was used to go to sleep to....) so, maybe i just need to be clued in here?

Posted by jen at June 18, 2003 3:33 PM

If female streaking was a regular thing at golf tournaments, then golf would be the most popular spectator sport and most watched on television. Sadly, it is neither. I do remember one other time where a completely topless woman approached Tiger on the course.

Though it would not be a bad idea for the PGA to through in a streaker at the Masters Tournament for publicity...

Posted by Cass at June 18, 2003 10:44 PM
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