That’s not one of my many typos — I really see butt cracks.

A lot of butt crack, enough crack to swipe a credit card.

I changed to a new space at the RV park: it’s on the water with spectacular views of the setting sun. There were two open spaces in this row. I took one next to a friend, and a couple moved in to the one on the other side of me.

And that man must not own any belts to hold up his shorts.

The couple parked in front of me have a motorhome, but prefer to be outside all day long, no matter how hot it is. They cook all meals outside. They are really tent campers who happen to own an RV.

But no belts.

It is probably clear by my tone that the aforementioned butt crack is NOT the hot one.

Statue of David in Sioux Falls, South Dakota.

Ahh, now there’s a nice butt crack.

Now there a nice butt crack.

Be grateful I did NOT take a photo of my neighbor’s butt crack.

While freezing my tail off in South Dakota, I went sight seeing. And oh what sights! I found Michaelangelo’s David in the Sioux Falls park.

(Insert your own caption, I’m speechless.)

In his defense, it was snowing.

David’s butt crack. Thank you, Michaelangelo.

Now there’s a plumber’s crack I wouldn’t mind seeing out my window. I think I’ll tape a copy to the window to block out the view of my neighbor’s crack.

UPDATED 10 minutes after posting: I swear that until this very moment, I did not know David was holding something. I have no idea what it is. I admit I’ve been staring at statues of David for many years… and only now do I see he’s got something in his hand and draped over his back. Oh my, what a perve I am!