Sunday, March 23, 2008

my pantalones

Let's be real here, guys. I don't like to wear pants.

I live at the beach, so I can get away with this much more often than if I lived in, say, Utah. Let's face it, if I'm running around in my bathing suit, I'm running around in my underwear, and wearing pants over your bathing suit is just silly anyway. But let me be more specific. What about shorts, right? Well, they're ok. I particularly like wearing them when it's breezy because we all know there's nothing better than feeling the wind slip around in there. But really, they're as bad as pants. Have you ever ran in shorts for a distance farther than two miles? Have you ever gotten that horrible rash between your thighs from running way too long in shorts that just rub and rub, and by the time you've gotten to the finish line you're running like you've got a corn cob or something between them? So take them off. Just take them off and leave them off and run or climb or watch tv with nothing but cool air between you and everything else. Best thing you've ever done with yourself. For... yourself. For yourself.

That said, granny panties are particularly nice. Big old parachute things, soft like spider silk, and they breathe like you're naked. Which is really the best option of all, but hey. So, remember when they shanked Donna on That 70's Show? She was playing basketball, but you don't remember that. What you remember is her granny panties. Best thing in the world, even Hyde and (I think) Kelso thought so. But I digress.

Anyway, moral of the story: don't wear pants. Whoever stole them, well... now I'm gonna go sans culotte through Taco Bell's drive-thru. Thanks guys.


nicolioliolio said...

hmm... i haven't decided exactly just how many sexual undertones and references i can draw from this... hahaha

sarawr said...

i'm sure i have no idea what you're talking about ;)