I admit that I have been busy these days so it should have been no surprise when I discovered this morning that my underwear supply is running low. Laundry has not exactly been a key priority. When fully stocked, my top underwear tier are Body by Victoria (she of the Secrets) bikini briefs. The next tier are silk French cut briefs. There is a token layer of Jockey cotton bikini briefs. The final layer, the outer circle of hell but necessary evils, are Victoria Secret cotton thongs. Because I've been so damned preoccupied (and/or lazy), I'm down to the damned thongs.
They always seem sound...in theory, anyway. Yet half day wearing them, I find they are more annoyance than assistance. The upside of the thong? No Visible Panty Lines. A certain breeziness upon one's buttocks. And let's not forget a sexy confidence they should instill in the wearer.
Yeah, sure.
Truth is, I spit on the inventor of this particular innovation. The feeling of a piece of fabric wedged between your ass cheeks all day is barbaric. I can never get the more generous piece of frontal portion of this fabric to actually cover my..uh...frontal regions. It sure likes to migrate to one side or another. And getting them detached from my body at the end of the day is like watching an uptight white man do the Running Man dance--SO not pretty.
Necessity breeds contempt, they say, but that's hardly a reason to keep them in my drawer. Maybe the torture is worth it should one get really lazy and not do laundry for a few weeks. Maybe it's worth it when you lean over and someone (preferably male) gleans the hint that you have a piece of dental floss holding your bits together (and men seem to be magnets for noticing this. Extra points for RED thongs). Who knows?
When I finally dragged my sorry ass home tonight, Fang greeted me at the door with a much anticipated Friday glass of wine (For Morewines: it was a Bearboat Pinot Noir). He gave me the usual hug and the Friday grab of the ass. Suddenly he reared back and cried, "Are you wearing underwear? Are you commando?" Pausing for the right answer I retorted, "Yes, I have given up on underwear."
Maybe that's the better alternative.
Greens Gotta Be Spicy
- Chicken And Waffles
- Summit, NJ, NJ, United States
- Well, I'm Damn Fascinating.
5 comments:
My signal to do laundry is the tier of Hanes briefs, the that-time-of-the-month underwear. When I get to those, it's definitely laundry time. The thongs are in a drawer that I don't even go into anymore.
I've always said that I don't get the point of a thong. (Well, that sounded weird!) They're uncomfortable as hell. Just go without if you want that bare-ass look.
A while ago I got rid of all of my...what do they call them? classic cut jeans and bought the low-rise. I know when it's time to do laundry when all I have left are some old granny panties that peek out of the top of my jeans by about 2 inches! Oh the horror! It's hard to pretend you're cool when you're stuffing your grannies back down into your jeans.
SR, get your ass over to my blog sometime!
I never had a thong. They gross me out...I mean, they been up your butt hole all day long, dont they smell like shit when you take them off at night? Just sayin' *chuckle*
Seriously, though, I told myself when I get down 10 more pounds, I'll buy a thong...we shall see....
I have never worn a thong....mostly because the idea of having to send a search party in after it is mortifying enough to bring me to my senses. Pre-Declan, when I rode my bike 250 miles a week, I wore none at all. I didn't start that way, it just ended up that way because 9 times out of 10 I would forget to pack them in my satchel with what I was going to wear to work. Perhaps I'll venture forth like Amynoroom and try it out after I lose 10 x 10 lbs.
Thongs are very uncomfortable.. they make your butt irritated..
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