The wrong panties have the power to destroy a good time, and goodness help you if you aren’t in a position to go without them– for instance, you’re wearing tight jeans and would rather not get rug burn down there.
Here I am on a very short nature walk. I could have extended this walk for much further if I hadn’t worn the wrong panties… again. Panties are like children, better seen than felt. Wait, I don’t think that’s the way that saying goes. Either way, panties should be seen and not felt. Unfortunately, thongs don’t give a damn about the sizes that my ass increases and decreases and whether it’s keeping up with those changes.
Thongs are cats. They don’t give a damn. Cotton hipsters are dogs. They are here to serve. Except for my dog Porter whose brain would conveniently shut off every time he wanted to do something he knew he shouldn’t be doing.
Me: Porter, you shouldn’t be eating tubes of lipstick and chair cushions.
Porter: I didn’t realize that was frowned upon around here. My word, someone might have told me. Oh you did tell me. Yes, you’re right, my brain must’ve been dead for some time and just come back on. It’s sad, really, when you think about it; I’ll never make it into the police force with this condition.
I digress. Listen ladies, in the game of life, it’s important to remember that the things we own serve us, not the other way around. We are the captain’s of our ship and the masters of our fate (see Invictus). I can’t blame society for my panties riding up my ass. I had a choice. I can only blame myself for any chafing and hand-down-my-pants wedgie wrestling that ensues. Yes, it’s cliché, but comfort and sexy go hand in hand.
Sexy is not walking like a T-Rex because the arch on your heels is way too high for you to properly balance. Sexy is not walking like you got the thick end of a dry stick up your butt because your thongs are too tight. Sometimes having four butt cheeks is better than two. Life is about balance.
If you put on a few pounds and you’d rather not buy new panties, skip out on buying the new lipstick, makeup palette, dress, or coffee. Buy bigger panties. Just do it. Coochie burn will not remind you to lose weight; it will only make you less active: it will only make you feel less sexy. And who in the heck wants that?
Who’s got a funny wore the wrong panties story? Who else loves a good pair of granny panties? Who owns more hipsters than thongs? Let’s talk about the bits that cover our lady bits!