What happens in my pants
My boxer shorts have a button fly. A needless accoutrement, but apparently fashionable. Many of my shirts contain the not-quite-so-needless accoutrement of extra buttons appended to the flaps. In my shirt-wearing life, I have never availed myself of these lagniappes, but nevertheless, there they are.
As happens during the day, I must occasionally use certain facilities; choosing to remain as fully clothed as possible while doing so. Of course, this entails a slight but sometimes confusing rearranging of garments. In the multiple cloth folds and creases within my fully dressed self, I have inadvertently selected the wrong button, fastening my shirt to my undergarment. Provided I have need to use a urinal again, this is no large matter. I’m just as likely to select the correct button on the second go-around and remain blissfully ignorant of my former shackles.
However, if my business is more elaborate and. . . urgent, shall we say, I run the risk of franticly undoing my belt, yanking down my trousers and subsequently slamming my forehead against the tissue dispenser. I fear my colleagues will one morning find me unconscious, curled in an awkward C on the cold tile floor.
The obverse of this earthy scenario: I arrive home, anxious to shed the costume of a plebian world. I exuberantly rip my shirt over my head—and see God in the ensuing sensations.
posted by Not Scott @ 11/17/2004 10:15:00 AM
13 Comments:
I am awaiting your dear sainted grandmother's comments on this one with bated breath.
BD
OMG. Because I live in a houseful of adolescent and pre-adolescent boys, I usually surf blogs to get away from bathroom humor and talk to some grown-ups for a change. At what age do guys outgrow that kind of thing?
Women’s undergarments are much more difficult to deal with. Those little clasps on nursing bras are obviously designed by some conservative engineer who hates all women. Try unhooking one of those little clasps with your left hand while it’s tucked way up inside your shirt while simultaneously trying to position a squirming baby with your right arm so that he can nurse discreetly under a shirt that was clearly not designed to accommodate both breasts and baby. Try doing this while chairing a meeting full of men, talking in a level tone about deadlines and goals, raising your voice just a little to be heard over the sucking sounds the baby will begin to make, clasping your left arm tight against the nipple on that side so that milk doesn’t come shooting out, trying to keep a pleasant neutral expression on your face while also maintaining eye contact with all the members of the board, who all look away from you the minute they realize what you are doing.
In case anyone’s wondering, I’m not Scott’s dear, sainted grandmother. Yes, I’m older than him but I’m not THAT old and if he ever makes a remark like that again, I will come out to that godforsaken flyover part of the country, hunt him down in that red state of his, and slap him upside the head.
Well, Scott, I'm not sure what you did to deserve a threat like that! You had the gall, I guess, to talk about your own underwear rather than a nursing bra. How's Judy doing with her nursing bra? Complaining a lot? Button up, dude.
I think the thing that offended jo(e) was not the funny story about the boxer shorts but the implication in an ealier post that she might well be his grandmother.
Are you all going to start arguing about underwear now? Man, people on this blog will fight about anything ....
Underwear is a more serious topic, at least, than presidential politics--no, what I mean is that it's a topic that's closer to home. Although it's not as critical as discussions about the size of babies' heads.
Well, if it's women's underwear vs men's underwear, then I have to say that women's underwear wins hands down. No contest at all. They've got whole stores and catalogues devoted to the wonders of women's underthings. Whereas a man in a thong looks just plain silly.
How about a baby's head in a thong?
Well, I shudder to think of what would happen to Scott if his boxer shorts came with diaper pins.
Could we not send images out of Happy Jack's head in a thong?! That's a little tough for Scott's sainted grandmother to bear. Of course, I have a feeling Scott may have been the one to post that comment anonymously. He has this thing for making fun of Jack's head. Scott, leave Jack's head ALONE!
It's too bad Scott can't fit into Ciela's cloth diapers because they have very convenient velcro ties. Of course then he would have to be walking around with little fish or bees on his pants. But he wouldn't have to worry about having an accident in class. Oh sorry Scott, I forgot I wasn't supposed to mention that ever again.
I don't mind the nursing bra actually, at least now I need a bra.
Notice how we've all slipped back into posting stuff anonymously? Who among us really wants to admit that we took time out of our day to talk about Scott's boxer shorts?
I'm jealous of the diapers with velcro. I had my babies in the wrong decade.
Tip for nursing mothers who don't to use disposable nursing pads: you can use men's all cotton handkerchiefs. Once they've been washed a few times, they are soft and absorbant. Just fold them up and put them inside your bra.
Accoutrement? Trousers? Lagniappes? Who talks like that?
I think this blog is being ghostwritten by Scott's dear, sainted grandmother.
And she must be a wealthy Republican because under the Bush administration, they are the only ones who get lagniappes.
Anyone remember the "Oops, I crapped my pants!" adult diaper commercials from Saturday Night Live? I wish Scott did.
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