Tres Dolores Y Envoltura De Los Pescado

Or, I Hate My Underwear.

Today, life kinda sucks.

I've had a headache since about 3 a.m. 2 XL Tylenol and 3 aspirins every 4 hours are keeping it knocked back enough to get through the day, but until my sinuses clear or this cold front passes through, it'll be here for a while.

My feet are killing me. I really need to get out of these broken-down shoes and into something with some arch support, but I'm worried about buying new shoes while my feets are swollen up. The sawbones says I can get off the Actos pills this summer if my blood sugar keeps dropping, but until I do, the feetses will continue to resemble little Goodyear Blimps.

And finally, my 'nads are tied in a knot. I hate these f#(%!^& skivvies.

So far I've avoided the "tugging and pulling" that so annoys our receptionist. I can usually get things back in order with a little hopping around and leg-shaking and let gravity do its thing. Having an office door that I can close is a big help in these matters. Now, I just need to remember to close my blinds...

I've already stated here on the blog that I'm a tighty-whitey man. Boxers just allow too much range of motion for my taste, and all that loose fabric usually ends up balled up in the asscrack, so I prefer the briefs for everyday wear.

The problem is, no one seems to make good briefs anymore. Fruit of the Loom used to, but now you can't get 'em in my size, unless you're a correctional facility and order them in quantities of 500 or more. Oh, yeah, and they're tighty-pinkies or tighty-olive drabbies.

I tried Munsingwear. That "kangaroo pouch" they use as a fly is worse than useless. The BVD brand skivvies I'm currently wearing are instruments of torture. Their fly design is this weird triangle-shaped opening that requires you to maneuver Mr. Happy through a diametrically opposed set of 120 degree angles to get "out the front door". As a result, the seams in the crotchable area are set in such a way that if you're sitting, you have a ligature separating the frank and the beans. When standing, the other seam comes into play, separating things vertically, and I'm not split that way on the front side.

I'm sure I'm like many guys out there when I just forego the fly and yank the bastards down, hoisting the drainpipe out over the elastic waistband. It's an inelegant solution to an everyday problem, and I want a new arrangement.

I think I've found it, too. It's time to bring back an old fashion style.

I want a got-damned codpiece.



Yup, a little hard-shell canoe strapped to my crotch, covering up Mr. Happy and his matched set of carry-on luggage. All my britches would have a big ol' hole cut in the crotch, and the hydraulics would dangle free until tucked up into the codpiece and strapped into place.

Oh, I'd update it for the times. Velcro and a metal button snap instead of leather or linen tie-strings. Kevlar and washable nylon instead of pressboard and velvet. Maybe one of those Airwick stick-ups inside just to keep things minty-fresh.

I'm telling you, the fashion possibilities are endless. You could put embroider racing stripes on the thing. Maybe flames or one of those warbird shark snouts.

I think I've got a winner, here, guys. Whaddya think?