CAN I SAY I HATE FOLDING PANTIES? (THIS ONE GETS A LITTLE INAPPROPRIATE)

Because I do. I hate folding panties. I mean, the satin ones slide, so it's hard to keep them at a crisp edge. The cotton ones have thicker seams, so it's impossible not to get some bunching somewhere (no pun intended). Thongs I just wrap around my hand and toss into the drawer (no pun intended). Boy shorts *pauses...pausing...still pausing...c'mon, appendix (that'll make sense later)...coherent again* are a little easier, but there is always that little section in the crotch that is a little longer that sticks out (no pun...wait, there's not really a pun there. Sorry).

While we're on the subject, Boy Shorts--yes, they should be capitalized, as they are that important--are just...ah, what's the word? AHSKLHADSLKFNAL;KFNWEK. That's what comes out of my mouth when Lydia wears them. Thongs are kind of stupid and I hate them, but Boy Shorts *pausing...* are just...

Okay, look. Forget all that thong crap. 80% of guys LOVES them some Boy Shorts. You see how I keep pausing? That's because Boy Shorts...so hard...to...type now...have that affect on men. I get lightheaded when even thinking of a pair, and having my wife's image in my head. Not even ncessarily her wearing them, just a pair of the stretchy blue or lacy little white ones, and her face (and the rest of her), and all coherent thought just heads south with the rush of blood. I'm not apologizing if you understood that.

In fact, that should be the new Tazer. Cops could just throw a pair of Boy Shorts on the ground and watch the fleeing vigilante pass out. They'd have to invent a spray the cops could take so they don't pass out, as well, but I don't think there is a natural antidote.

Imagine the implications in riot control.

You know how nobody knows what the heck the appendix does? It's an, "I saw boyshorts" pump that sends blood back up from the way it came. Without it, mankind would be permanently crippled. And then we'd be doomed, because all the women would get lost. Hehe, see what I did there? Women can't drive without men. Hehe, see? Yeah, okay not that funny.

By the way ladies, do NOT hold up a pair of Boy Shorts while shopping with your husband, place them across your waist and hips, and ask, "Whaddya' think?" There is absolutely NOTHING a guy can do in that instance. Even the "untuck-the-shirt-and-walk-slowly" technique is powerless against that. You have three options in that case: walk out as-is and get arrested, let him stand there biting his lip and leaning on the table, whimpering, for the next hour, or let him pick you up and sprint into the dressing room. I'm not apologizing if you understood any of that.

And this is the sternest warning I can give. Do not--I repeat DO NOT!--revel in his suffering, as his face goes from a stark white to a flushed red to a deep crimson, like a cuttlefish vibrating his colors, and think you can add to it by WIGGLING YOUR HIPS WHILE YOU'RE HOLDING THE BOYSHORTS AGAINST THEM! GAH!!! That is not funny, and will result in one thing: he will be Attila. You will be the corpulant Roman provinces. Right there in the middle of the department store. There will be no Aetius to save you.

It'll be worth getting arrested for, at least. If they can find a firehose with enough PSI to blast him off you. I'm not apologizing at all, because everyone understood that.

While we're (sort of) on the thong/Boy Shorts topic, one-piece > bikini. By a HUGE margin. Especially the scoop-neck blue and white patterned kind with the flirty little skirt on the bottom, where the backside just sticks out the slightest little bit, which Lydia hasn't worn in a while...

I mean, one pieces > bikinis. I count tankinis as one pieces. They come in BOY SHORTS!!!

*slam slam slam slam slam slams head into wall*

Geez. This is invariably leading my mind back to a corset trying on/dressing room incident. I will leave that story untold. Lydia would not enjoy me sharing it, and I would not enjoy sleeping on the couch. Or castration.

What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, folding panties. I dislike folding panties. I'm doing laundry, and there is a pile of panties. And just out of the dryer panties are pretty much useless. They're warm and all, but we use unscented detergent and fabric softener. So they smell like, like clean. And nothing else.

I'm not apologizing for that. You should know better than to read anything I write that has the word, "panties" in the title.

And they're not my panties, if you're thinking that. My wife's. I don't think they even make panties in my size. Oh, thinking of panties in my size, I hate folding sheets, especially the fitted ones.

(Admit it, all that vulgarity was nearly worth that last paragraph).