But summer is about more than imagining nudity. It’s also about seeing tattoos that are normally hidden by winter clothing. This is more important than you think. For instance, if a woman is wearing a long sleeve shirt in the winter, how do I know she doesn’t have a tattoo on her forearm that says “I hate Mexicans”? Mexicans are our friends, reader. Worse yet, what if the girl is Mexican and has that tattoo? I don’t like girls with low self-esteem, and summer clothing helps me avoid them.

Here’s another incredibly relevant example: What if a girl I hit on in the winter has a tattoo of Bob Newhart on her shoulder? I wouldn’t know until it was too late. I can’t make love with Bob Newhart watching. Here I am trying to get all worked up for a lady, and Bob Newhart is smiling and looking friendly at me. Scientists have actually proven that it’s physically impossible to get an erection when Bob Newhart is near, even if you are Bob Newhart.

Here’s yet another sterling example: Did you know nearly 62% of women have birthmarks shaped like Jesus Christ? It’s true. That doesn’t keep me from sleeping with them, but it does make me feel guiltier afterward. Did you also know that really thin women sometimes have weird, bony shoulders? That also doesn’t keep me from sleeping with them, but it does sometimes cause me to blurt out inappropriate things like, “Oh my God, look at your creepy shoulders!”. Tank tops give me a heads up in these situations.

The only trouble is when women don’t wear summer clothes. Y’know those dorks who wear jeans year-round, even when it’s 100 degrees out? Those losers aren’t very helpful, and I avoid them at all costs for fear they have leprosy or something else wrong with them.

Granted, I wear jeans year-round, even in 100-degree heat, but I’m a man! Who the hell wants to see my body anyway? Men are always lumpy and unattractive when naked. Having a preview only makes women sadder than they must already be from having to sleep with us.

Besides, what am I supposed to wear? I’m not some 1980s douche who requests Metallica during the rock station’s weekday lunchtime show, so jean shorts are out of the question. I’m not healthy or gay, so runner shorts are no good. That leaves board shorts, which I can’t wear without worrying that a teenager will walk up to me and shout, “Look at this man! He is 28 years old! Jesus!” So I tend to wear jeans.

How about we make a deal, folks? I’ll just give up and wear boxer shorts outside in the summer, and the rest of you can do the same (The flap must have a button). That way we’ll all look stupid, be comfortable, and reveal enough to avoid surprises. We’re all just going to imagine each other naked anyway, so why not cut out the interference?

Then I’ll scan the room and the gnat will have disappeared, and I’ll just sit here waiting nervously. I think it flies low along the floor after I swing at it, to keep from being seen. It’s quite clever for a creature with a brain half the size of a pubic hair. This gnat – worthy foe or not – must be defeated if I ever want to sleep peacefully again.

Don’t ask how long this has been going on. The answer is embarrassing. This gnat has been keeping me awake for three straight nights. Aren’t gnats only supposed to have a lifespan of a day or something? This is a super gnat. This gnat is a superhero for gnats. It’s stealth, like Wonder Woman’s naked plane. Or invisible plane. Whatever. Either way, I’m going nuts.

I know what you’re saying. “Just go to sleep. Quit worrying about it.” You’re a damn fool. Those suggestions are stupid little words spoken by a stupid little person. If I know the gnat isn’t dead, I’ll keep hearing phantom buzzing, even when the gnat isn’t around. I’ll randomly slap the side of my neck for no reason whatsoever, just because I’m afraid the gnat is sneaking up on me. This paranoia will slowly drive me insane.

This is why I’ve always refused to go camping. There’s no logical reason to sleep closer to bugs. If I wanted to sleep near something small and creepy, I’d marry Dakota Fanning. I wish I were a millionaire, so I could buy a special house that seals me off completely from the insect world.

Look at that stupid crap I just wrote. This gnat is making me irrational. If my sanity keeps declining at this rate, I’ll end up like Howard Hughes, wearing kleenex boxes on my feet and keeping jars of my own urine. I can think of far better ways to spend my summer.

There are only two ways this night can end. Either the gnat will reappear and I’ll actually kill it this time, or I’ll exhaust myself and pass out, my neighbor’s missing copy of Vibe still gripped tightly between my fingers.

On second thought, maybe I’ll just take some NyQuil and knock myself out. That seems easy.

John Edwards is so white that the cameras can barely pick up his image. He’s like a ghost with a $400 hairpiece. However, this may actually help him in this debate, since white people once enslaved black people, and ghosts did not.

Chris Dodd has trimmed his massive eyebrows. This makes me not want to vote for him.

Bill Richardson is a latino? Really? Weird.

Let me get this straight. Joe Biden is at a black university and he didn’t say anything I can make fun of? This is surprising. It seems like just yesterday he was congratulating Obama for being “clean” and “not hooked on fried chicken”.

Dennis Kucinich and Mike Gravel need to find a second issue to talk about. I played a game where I drank every time they mentioned the war, and a paramedic had to pump my stomach.

They’re done with introductions. Here come the race questions! Hey, guess what? All the candidates think race issues are important! Who would’ve thought!

Mike Gravel: “Racism was here with us at the beginning of this country. And so was I. I’m old as shit. Good lord, look at me. I don’t even know what year it is.” Gravel then ate a live mouse onstage. He might get my vote after all.

Obama says racial inequality is a big problem. The black audience erupts into applause. Obama says homophobia is a big problem. The black audience whistles nervously and averts their gazes.

Dodd is talking angrily about something. I’m not sure what he’s angry about. I’m not listening because I’m still mad about his eyebrows.

Gravel thinks ending the war will help cure AIDS. I don’t think he knows what AIDS is.

Richardson is even better. “How should we fight AIDS?” asks the questioner. “We have to use needles,” says Richardson. What? Should we stab the AIDS with these needles? Richardson explains further: “Bringing condoms, finding ways to increase needles, penetrating minority outreach.” Ha! Penetrating. Nice one. But where are we bringing the condoms? Does it involve Mark Foley?

Kucinich: “We have to fund all those diseases!” I think his podium’s been next to Gravel’s for too long. They’re starting to talk alike.

Biden: “I got tested for AIDS, I know Barack got tested for AIDS, there’s no shame in (it).” Cut to a shot of Obama glaring at Biden and then nervously clarifying that he’s not gay. Priceless! The only way his reaction could have been funnier is if he had blown kisses at Biden while pointing to his butt.

Smiley to Dodd, who refused to stop talking when told his time was up: “If you were Paris Hilton, you’d have an hour. But you’re not.” I like Smiley now. Before I just liked him because his name made me think of a smiley face.

Gravel wants to get rid of the IRS? When did he become a libertarian? He can’t switch parties. Among libertarians, his bizarre, unhinged rants would be considered normal.

Clinton goes on a long rant about Warren Buffett. Seriously, I’m drunk and have no idea what’s going on anymore, but if Hillary wants me to beat up Warren Buffett, I’m happy to do so.

Smiley to Barack when he kept talking after his time was up: “I love you but I’m trying to keep this moving.” Aren’t moderators supposed to be unbiased? And why is everyone acting so gay around Obama?

Time is running out, and Smiley is giving candidates 10 seconds to explain how they’d fix Darfur. This is officially my favorite debate ever.

Let’s end with a quick summary of what I learned. The following things are good: Diversity. The following things are bad: Poverty, AIDS, Katrina, Darfur, and outsourcing. Thank God we had this debate. Otherwise I might have wrongly assumed that our candidates disagreed on some issues.

(Watch the debate here)