Sunday 28 October 2012

A story by Scott

Not D&G Underwear, but a story nonetheless. . .
So rather than rant about politics today, I thought I would relate the importance of checking the size of new clothes before you go to work. I recently purchased a bunch of new underwear.

You know, there was a sale and I tried some new fundies. In this case, the some new underwear was in the 'tightey-whitey' style (
Y -fronts for the Brits), but with a pouch for your junk. The pouch is important because I don't like my junk squished against me, I like a little wiggle room for the boys (so to speak).Well the new underwear is really comfortable and I have been wearing it for a while and I like it. Yesterday I slapped a pair on after my shower, got dressed and headed out walking to work.

I wasn't far before I knew something was amiss there were a little too snug. I blamed the humidity (I blame the humidity for everything else why not this).

As the day progress, I realizede that although I was stretching on the underwear a little  things were getting better. As a matter of fact, as I warmed up from my shower, the pouch was getting snugger and snugger.

While I have no complaints in the junk department (well except for the 'unreliability' issues, but I blame the other party when that occured - I disgress). Anyway, I am honest enough to know that while I am pleasantly endowed, I am not normally overflowing the normal junk pouch - and there was nothing going on. Indeed, there were definitely other forces at work here. So, after my ass spent the better part of the morning eating my skivey, I went the restroom stall to see what the hell was going on.

Turns out that while pulling my order for underwear, a size S for small was included inn the batch - and I never noticed. After being amazed that I even got it around my waist (I attributed it to sick skin after the shower) I wonder what to do.

Now I live a block from home but I was in meetings all day. And the excuse, 'sorry I put the wrong underwear today' just doesn't seem acceptable as an excuse to go home. And so I shoved my junk in the little pouch, pulled it back up my ass and made do until the quitting bell then I walked uncomfortably (and probably unattractively) home and threw it away. ~ a story by
Scott

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