11.11.2003 - 12:40 p.m.
I've been thinking about underwear
No, there is context for my
underwear train of thought (what a naughty train that
would be! Choo choo! All aboard the Bullet Train Panty Express!
Next stop: tunnel of love! Metaphorically speaking!). I need
more underwear so I can do laundry less often.
JB and I have this snake-eating-its-own-tail thing going on with
the laundry, where we run the washer and then forget to put stuff
in the dryer until everything in washer is kind of yecccch
smelling so we have to run it again, etc. Then when we finally
dump everything in the dryer we forget to take it out of the
dryer when it's done so everything is hopelessly wrinkled and
we have to run the dryer again to un-wrinkle everything, ETC.
The thing is, I hate
doing laundry. Which is so dumb, because the only actual work
involved in "doing" laundry is putting away the shit
you take out of the dryer. Dumping detergent in a machine and
turning a knob? Not hard. But man, I will procrastinate until
the Granny Panty forces my hand.
Ladies, do you know what I
mean? Where you fish through wads of black tights and gym socks
and maybe an old bathing suit or two and all you come up with
is the Giant Ugly Panty of Doom? And lo, that day becometh laundry
So if I had more underwear,
I could extend the number of days between Granny Panty Sightings.
My inventory was looking something like:
Thongs, asphyxiating: 2
Thongs, non-asphyxiating: 3
Lacy tap pant type ensemble, decorative purposes only: 1
Enormous Saggy Frightening Horrible White Diaperlike Panty of
If only Old Navy sold underwear
that doesn't crawl halfway up your lower intestine, I'd be good
to go. But since they don't, I found myself buying several pairs
of "no pantyline promise!" women's (duh) Jockeys this
past weekend at Fred Meyers.
The thing about buying clothing
for your girly bits at Fred Meyers is there's no discreet panty
cashier, like maybe a nice matronly type who wraps your items
in pink tissue, there's just regular pimply teenage boy grocery
cashiers. Your merchandise gets laid out on the conveyor belt
along with everyone's cans of pumpkin and dog food and light
I felt goofy about slapping
down my hoochie-holsters all on their lonesome, so I started
looking around for a few other things to add to my purchase.
I went in for underwear. I
left with underwear, a Finding Nemo DVD, fall-themed placemats
and matching napkins, 8 water glasses, iridescent nail polish,
red lipstick (that, no lie, I tried on when I got home and immediately
threw away), an Us magazine, fake orchid flowers, a nightlight,
nail polish remover, hair scrunchies, eyeshadow set, and something
that is listed as "BATH" on the receipt which I cannot
Also, I still have to do laundry
today. WHY GOD WHY?
Today's special focus on undergarments
has been inspired by Weetabix, who went 3 WEEKS slacking on laundry,
which leads me to suspect she has one of those special fucking
armoires designed only to hold one's thousands of pairs
of matching bras and panties. She's probably got little lavender
scented doohickeys in there, too. DAYAM her!
Question time! From the Hopelessly
Out of It Department of Not Understanding These Kids Today.
- What the hell is emo? Seriously.
I have this vague notion that it involves sucky bands like Creed?
- If I were to pass Missy Elliot a dutch, what exactly would
I be passing her?
bukkake. What IS it? (I have the
feeling I'm going to regret asking that one.)
comments so far.
I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004