I couldn't figure out whether to write that as the title, or go with:
My boss farted in my eye, figuratively
but they say "sex sells," and I say, "the first round's on me."
I am wearing panties to work today. A nice, blue-green striped number that really makes me feel liberated, and oh-so-undomesticated. This is me.
I like the feeling that all these women I work with don't know the big strong guy is actually wearing silk panties. And I like the feeling of silk panties. on my undercarriage.
I sprained my foot on Saturday playing football. Those guys didn't know I was wearing panties either, but that's not the point. The point is, how bullshit is spraining your foot? It's not even a joint, it should be impossible to sprain. But I managed, and it hurts more than that Wendy's commercial with the guys whispering "two ninety-nine" to each other that makes me want to mash their faces. and pee in a frosty.
Then, after spraining my foot and having it examined by another player, my cousin, who is an orthopedic surgeon and can do such things, I got drunk and drove around. And Sunday morning, I had no idea where my car was, and I was pretty sure that I had crashed and/or left my car somewhere behind in the night. But it turns out I just parked it in the street, so all's well that ends well, right?
Then I choked a baby, and cut off a puppy's tail. and put on panties. But don't worry, most of the stuff in this post didn't really happen. Now if you'll excuse me, my panties are riding up a little, and I need to adjust them.