I Think It's Safe To Say That This Naked Streaker's Naked Streaking Days Are Over

Streaker! pic.twitter.com/LIuNsJXo28

— Dan News-Lake (@dannews) January 30, 2017

Ironically enough, the main reason (among a host of others) that I have never gone naked streaking at a sporting event is the same reason that I never felt the urge to become a hurdler. They both seem like activities that lend themselves to high levels of eventual, inevitable embarrassment.

That's why I can't help but think this guy miscalculated his odds when he decided to dart dick-out across the entirety of a soccer field before trying to propel himself over a barrier that he was about 10 less beers, the loss of 35-40 pounds, and about 2-3 dozen track meets away from being prepared for. I don't want to tell the guy how to live his life, but I also don't think he needs me to now that his manhood undoubtedly feels like less of one while he recovers from the charlie horse developing on his ass cheek after he got laid out by an inanimate object. I understand the risk of speaking for someone that felt it was a good idea to dress up in his birthday suit and haul his shriveled up balls across a longer-than-it-looks field of play, but I don't think it is something you do twice.

Maybe I have more faith in humanity than most, but I would hope that being led out onto the street with your hands held behind your back thus calling more attention to your drunken micropenis would deter future acts of hilarious indecency. Nothing is ever going to stop inebriated white guys' endless search for attention, but I'm going out on a limb and saying that laying in painful wait of security guards that were less effective than a 2 foot high wall while having the sun shine all over the least forgiving parts of your body was enough to put an end to this inebriated white guy's search for attention.