It's just an excuse.

Luckily, Judith invited me to join her at the Yerba Buena Center for the Arts this evening to see the Paul Taylor Dance Company perform.

I've decided that the people on stage could have been bobbing for apples/scratching themselves/sleeping and I still would have thought they were all unbelievably hot. Let me count the ways:

1. Unearthly physicality - The various parts of these people are always precisely where they are supposed to be. Always.

2. Undies match outfits - Not that I was looking, but if ever an undie appeared, it was always the same or a pleasantly matching shade of overall outfit.

3. Outstanding personal hygiene - I can't imagine a chap with halitosis would last too long in all those close-in, sweaty practice sessions.

4. Remarkable gluteus maximii - I'm sure if you and I danced every day for 36 hours we'd have asses like that too.

5. Apparently naked often - I have decided to face the fact that the only reason I enjoy watching dance of most kinds is because, well, basically it's
Live Sex On Stage.

Once I reached this decision, I became somewhat unnerved by the age of the audience. Apparently it's the pricey tickets that ensured Judith and I were amongst the few under 40.

I'm a spring pervert.