So, ladies and gents, the summer’s here at last, and you know what that means: SKIN!

Skin! Skin skin skin skin skin skin skin! At last, we have reached that wonderful time of year when the ladies pack away their long-sleeved shirts and blue jeans, and put on their skimpy tank tops and extra-short shorts. This is that magical season when that most beautiful of all creatures, woman, generously consents to showcase to the world the full glory of her shapely legs, sleek arms, and … well, you know.

Come, sing along: “It’s the most wonderful time of the year!”

But seriously, that was all exaggeration. I don’t particularly care what women wear, and certainly I don’t leer like a dirty old man when a shapely blond walks by in a skimpy tube-top. Yes, I am an impartial observer, since I don’t care for women (I’m gay, you know; have you figured it out yet?), and therefore I am very well qualified to set forth a few laws regarding the exhibition of skin.

The first skin-law is not a law at all; it is, more properly, the opposite of a law, a right. Ladies, you have the right to wear your shorts as high as your pretty little hearts desire, and NOBODY has the right to condemn you for it. It is quite proper, dear madam, for you to wear shorts so short that the majority of your thigh is exposed; quite proper to go even higher than that, high enough that you could place the end of a ballpoint pen against your waist and have the tip touch your naked leg.

You can do this, ladies, and NO ONE has the right to call you a skank. You don’t need my permission, of course, to wear short shorts; but there are certain scoundrels (puritanical Southern Baptists, cranky old men, ugly guys) who would condemn you for it, and it is for their benefit that I speak.

One caveat regarding short shorts, however: if you are, shall we say, not quite in shape for summer, then do the world a favor and put on a pair of LONG shorts, and display your upper thighs only when they are pleasant to look at.

So we have reviewed the shorts laws, and found them to be fairly liberal. Not so with the shirt laws, in which a rigorous system of control and decency must be maintained.

Ladies, every man in the world loves to see you walk along in a tank top, with certain portions of your upper anatomy displayed. It’s delicious, and does not make you a skank. However, ladies, please don’t wear such revealing outfits every day. (Most of you don’t; but there are a few who remain oblivious to this unwritten rule, and it is those ladies that I currently address.)

Dearies, if you go displaying your cleavage on a regular basis — more than twice a school-week, say — you’re going to acquire a reputation as a skank. Guys will talk about you behind your back, and make jokes about you, and invent funny nicknames for you. Eventually you will lose your real identity altogether, and become known only by these derogatory nicknames.

I once knew a girl whose only name was “Boobs McGhee.” My friends and I had many classes with her, but we didn’t know her name; all we knew about her was that she displayed 80 percent of the surface-skin of her breasts, day in and day out, rain or shine. And, far from being impressed or turned on, we despised her, as well we might: for she dressed like a professional whore, and it is difficult to respect anyone who does that.

So ladies, yes, by all means, display your cleavage; but please do it only occasionally, as a special treat.

And now, so as to conceal my flagrant chauvinism, let me speak for a moment to my fellow males. Guys, the following rules should suffice to govern your skin-displaying over the next three months:

Don’t take your shirt off at every opportunity. Don’t take your shirt off at all, unless you have a decent body. And never, unless you are involved in an actual swimming race, should you EVER wear a Speedo.

That is a cardinal sin against manhood.

E-mail Jeff at [email protected]