His perfect package is comfortably nestled in an open front v-neck wide collared macrame unitard. I mean seriously, that tight fitting blue & purple fucker has chest-exposing fabric buttons, cap sleeves, and hugs his ass like a custom bucket seat made of soft Corinthian leather. Oh yeah, he’s pulling it off. However just then, as the Paco Camino Man confidently models this ball-cradling sweater thingy knitted by his oversexed aunt Peg, the psychoactive hallucinogens & hydroponic pot kicked in, and his naked lover slowly begins to peek through her arm to witness a sex fashion nightmare. But take a deep breath, it's the 70’s, and this kind of shit happens all the time. She’ll just put Marvin Gaye’s sexy-as-hell album,
I Want You on the record player and he’ll be free of the crotched abomination before Marvin even sings a note.
"Where was I, when childhood died? And manhood came, to take me..."