The Woes of Underpants

Underwear just piss me right off.

To little 15 yr olds: I don’t need to see the ENTIRE string of your v-string under your lowrise jeans. I realize you wish to convey to horny teen boys that you are quite ready to give up your virginity to them (or at least are the kind of girl that will do anything BUT), but there are other ways to let these lucky lucky boys know- like sexting them.

To fat ladies: panty lines under stretchy pants- not good. I understand that any v-string or thong you women would wear in an attempt to fix this disaster would be lost in the folds of excess skin that has settled around your waste, and so, to prevent my eyes from being assaulted by the outline of your granny panties, please cease to wear stretchy pants until further notified of a more favorable solution.

As far as wearing underwear: Thongs- yes, please give me something with which to floss any stray fecal matter from my crack. Bikinis – yes, I realize I have a stellar physique, unfortuneately it does not come complete with hips to hold up bikini undies. And everything else-gets bunchy under my faux leather leggings.

Buying underwear: to Victorias Secret- seriously?! $18 for a piece of string and a triangle of cotton? (Sadly, I fell for this terrible ploy and ended up owing Victoria MANY dollars before I realized I would not look like a model in her underwear) To Walmart: washing a pair of your underwear should not make them disintegrate.

THEREFORE, I claim this day as  Commando Day. HOO- RAH.