I cannot imagine not being able to inspect my navel, at the end of a hard day, and have confirmation of what colour of shirt I wore.

The lint collected reminds me of the way of the universe; everything slowly sheds its substance and shuffles imperceptibly towards oblivion.

Thankful my pp is an outtie and not an innie

Ah yes, the lint hole.

This is gonna push people's buttons... Better make a ringing noise, otherwise these bell-ies are false advertising.

But you have a little outie right under it still.