I feel the same way about Valentimes as I do Christmas and New Years... Nice, good holidays that have been commandeered by commercialism. So perhaps I do not celebrate like everyone else-
Instead of a pair of silk boxers or a box of chocolates, Damon and I opted to go low-key this year. Pizza and an evening in. Simple and good (plus there is not cooking for me!).
TMI ALERT To add a little "spice" to his day, I wore a special pair of undies- A fuchsia thong. Give the man a little something to think about during the day... TMI ALERT OVER
Perhaps this blatant blaspheming of St. Valentine angered Cupid and all of his little naked, angel-winged friends...
On my way to get lunch with a friend, disaster struck... My pants ripped right down the seam, directly at bum-hole level.
What can you do? Laugh- and I did. I laughed because my pants ripped... However, it took me a good 10 minutes before I realized that I was not wearing regular underpants...
See, ripping your pants, though somewhat detrimental, does not feel horrifying as long as there is still SOMETHING covering the dimpled, white surface below...
However, realizing that little more than a scant piece of fuchsia fabric separates your shiny hiney from the outside world can cause minor hysteria. Luckily I was seated when this realization hit me over the head.
Once again- all I could do was laugh... And my friend laughed- We laughed hysterically.
Possible solutions?
Hold the rip together with butt cheeks? Nope, I fail to be able to keep the cheeks tight long term.
Ooo- Staples... Genius- Except they started poking me in my unmentionables...
Hmmm- Duct Tape? YES DUCT TAPE!!!
Silver stick-um saves the day- though I will say the plastic-y feeling between the cheeks is less than thrilling, I am grateful to have all of my pieces covered once again.
Happy Valentimes!!!
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