At the end of the day, you're still ripping off Shakespeare.
This NSFW window has been open in my browser for almost an hour now. I keep staring at the black box, the pale flesh beside it.
I know that it wouldn't be so very wrong to click on the image and remove the black box. I am not at work, Roomie 2.0 and guest in the other room wouldn't judge me. (Much.) And, I mean, Mr. Survivor is staring RIGHT AT the camera. He POSED. It's not like he didn't know this could happen.
So the only person this really hurts is me. I have to decide -- do I want to see what Jeff Probst looks like, beneath the khaki? Am I prepared for this image to be seared into my brain every time I "accidentally" watch an episode of Survivor (it's like tripping and falling into an abyss, see, an abyss that strangely resembles a catty grown-up version of Wild and Crazy Kids)?
The Probst is a good-looking man. I find his dry wit and no-nonsense attitude quite refreshing. But does that mean that I really want to see his wound ferret?
(That one's not mine, sadly. Kate Winslet has dibs.)
(The parentheticals, man! They're out of control!)
The answer is no, I think. No. I do not want to click the pic. I am capable of restraint. I am capable of self-control.