The Backdoor Strikes Back

A few years ago, I got nervous. What with Pamela Anderson and the Miracle Bra and that bizarre Janet Jackson Super Bowl thingee, I was afraid that boobs were back.

Now don't get me wrong. I like boobs. I've befriended them, caressed them, given them the attention they deserve to push my "lady friends" ever closer to the edge of enlightenment. As a red-blooded, heterosexual male, I, too, get tongue-tied and stammer when faced with a dazzling pair wrapped up in the glory of a tight T-shirt.

That said, I am, and always will be, an ass man. And no one was happier than I when J-Lo hit the scene and, overnight, the derriere replaced boobs as the female body part obsession of our popular culture. Suddenly, ass was everywhere. In the magazines, at the supermarket, in the casinos. And it was good.

Then that Janet Jackson thing happened. And suddenly everyone was talking boobs again.

But now, thanks to MTV and its perpetual loop of rap music vids, ass is back. And stronger than ever.

In fact, the "booty shot" -- that magical moment at a bar, party, book burning, or PTA meeting when chicks get all gangsta and stick out their derrieres for the camera -- has officially become a requirement of any gathering of two or more females. And I'm not complaining... 'specially if, y'know, any of them feel compelled to e-mail some to me.

Ass is bigger than all of us, my friends. It is the currency that drives our economy, the root of lust that fills our minds, the omnipresent shadow looming large over our towns and communities and strip malls.

Let's face it. Ass, in and of itself, fucking rocks.