Editorial
An Open Letter to my Underwear

     Hey underwear. So what's the deal? I thought we had an agreement here. I have been holding up my end of our arrangement. Wear only once, then wash. No using the pee-pee flap in the front, unless it for emergency access for scratching. And no using you to wipe down the shower before throwing you in the dirty clothes.
     You on the other hand have seemed to forgotten you have responsibilities in this relationship. You have gone against both the spirit and the letter of our agreement on several occasions recently. When I took you off last night, you looked like the Jib Sail of an 18 century schooner. Good thing I was indoors, or a stray gust of wind could have picked me up like a parasail. Not to mention the frequent and disquieting incursions into forbidden areas (commonly referred to as wedgie creep). In addition, I have also been subjected to one documented case of accidental peek-a-boo. Need I say more?
     In closing, don't take this as a threat, but if these incidents repeat, I will have no choice but to explore other avenues of under clothing.

 
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