Drive Carefully!

Trust Me, You DON'T Want To See My Skivvies!

Y'know, Mom's gonna be really upset with me if I'm in a car accident today, 'cause I'm wearing the most godawful pair of underwear you can possibly imagine.

Oh, they're clean... no skidmarks, vapor trails or dribble stains. Not yet, anyway. They're just in no condition to be worn, and wouldn't have been, except they were the last clean pair aside from the boxer briefs, which I really, really hate wearing.

The waistband has pulled loose from the skivvies in several places, and the leg elastic is ragged and looking forlorn. There's a huge tear in the side as a result of an overenthusiastic drawer-lowering episode. (Hey, it was a long drive, and I'd been holding it for hours. When the turtlehead appears, it's best to get any fabric out of the way tout de suite...)

I imagine I'll consign this pair to the garbage can tonight, but first I'll pitch 'em on the floor with my undershirt for a while, so the cats can get their daily dose of depravity by rolling around on them and doing unspeakable things to my undies. They seem to enjoy that for some reason. That, and stuffing their heads inside my shoes.

I don't really see the attraction. I mean, you don't see me doing a face plant in their litterbox...