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Cu vs csu
August 31st, 2008 by chapmanlogic
The Unfortunate Underwear Ordeal
so it turns senseless that i haven’t bought different underwear since ronald reagan was president.mrs. r reminded me of this recently when she said it was time to “throw away those things and fall some new ones, or go commando!” men my years should not at all go commando, i cogitate on it is hamper law # 461.in the interest of a whitey-tighties guy like me, purchasing unheard of undies is more craftiness than science. revenge oneself on em too small and you’re a soprano; get em too well and you’re support network is non-existenta few days later we headed off to the county suburban mall, my mission was to purchase new underwear. mrs. r’s mission was to contain her hysterics until we were no longer in public. it would prove to be a challenge for both of us.as we entered the stored, two small children ran in front of us. they were being chased by their mom, whom we’ll call “bouncing betty.” it seems that betty was wearing a tube-apogee genus clothe and was well, not as slender as she once was. betty was frantically bouncing across the store, desperately trying to catch her children. i took this as a bad omen.we reached the men’s underwear department where i was confronted by a bewildering exceptional of styles, cuts, colors and sizes. now the pressure was on. i made my special and grabbed several packages of new underwear.men’s underwear are not packaged discretely. in my instance the combination said in big striking letters, “caution contains men’s underwear as a replacement for old guys.” in addition, the nearest open checkout stand was across the store, adjacent to 6 miles away and right next to the “misses” department.misses is where all the shrewd young women shop, and this day was no exception. i patiently waited in line as several attractive young women walked former me, whispering and pointing and laughing.mrs. r and i finally made to the checkout accept where the teenaged lady behind the sign in asked “did we win everything okay?”this was too much for mrs. r who broke into hysterics, knocked over a couple of racks of dresses and had to leave the cache.i got checked out and we headed for the bookstore, with me carrying a bag of 15 pairs of whitey-tighties. i am not making this part up as we entered the bookstore the shoplifting alert went turned. as if i wasn’t self-conscious enoughso now i had to have my bag searched by some 16 year-erstwhile gal who may never give birth to seen quondam guy undies in the forefront. it would have been discomfiting if it weren’t so humiliating.we made it institution, i threw my purchase in the washing system, ran em through the dryer, and smugly thought that i would be all predetermined to go the next morning.well it turns out i had let me ego override my better judgment and got em too humongous. so i spent a few days without support and being crankier than conformist, if that’s possible.i went back to the market to purchase the appropriate, i.e. smaller, size. this set the checkout counter in the men’s branch was open and was staffed by a young gazabo.as i approached the counter he asked “so how is your saturday going so far?”being as articulate as i am, i cleverly replied “fine.”after i checked out he told me to “enjoy.”and i memory to myself “oh i will, sparky. i will enjoy these brand-spanking new whitey-tighties for the next 20 years or so. by the old hat they’re tattered elsewhere, i’ll probably be wearing diapers”at least i got the right size this time
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