Let this be a reminder that, although we are nominally all one culture, we all probably do something that would gross our neighbors right the heck out.
"No, you can't go play with Suzy. Her people are underwear sharers !"
Maybe it's my Depression-baby attitude, but if soap and water make your undies clean enough for you to wear, what difference does it make if they were once someone else's?
Change daily? Like our guys and gals in Iraq and A-stan do?
Sorry, folks, but that "Ick" is right in there with the folks who would get upset over the work involved for turning a clucking hen into fried chicken.
Hey, here's an idea. Sell the undies on-line and buy shooting stuff; ammo and guns and stuff. You could probably charge more if you can say you wore them to the range.
I think Art got this right. What's the big deal? If you ever used a washing machine that other people had used, your undies came in contact with the tub that was in contact with their undies, is that icky too?
I wouldn't offer my clothes, inner or outer, to a co-worker, but clean is clean.
Tam, you do realize that by linking to the panty post, you're kind of asking for comments from guys who will claim to have some of YOUR discarded squirrel covers?
WV: uncing. What I did when reading about the nice lady in the adjoining cubicle.
I gotta say I sort-of support the "clean is clean" line of thought, but I'm really surprised that no-one else has suggested the following response yet:
"Thanks, but I think I'll take this opportunity to try Commando-style for a while."
As non sequitors go that might be worth arranging just to see the resulting expression on said helpful co-worker's face.
"I take comfort in the fact that two dudes would never, ever have that coversation."
Robin Sage exercise a long time ago. None of us had showered in weeks - we were audibly funky. I'd kept one clean set of undergarments in a ziploc baggie for my last day in the field.
Anyway, while crossing a stream I fell in and went immediately under - the stream was stronger than any of us had expected and you can't tell how deep it is from looking at the top. I'd had all my gear on and I went straight to the bottom. I was unable to get uprighted under my own power. Quite scary. Another fellow jumped in and pulled me out.
He saved my life.
Turned out he was about my size. Guess what he got in return for bringing me back from the dead? Yup, just like the Willy and Joe comic. And he considered the bargain fair.
Whenever you talk about women's 'panties' around heterosexual, masculine men I always think of the time a buddy said he always enjoyed getting into his wife's when she was his girlfriend.
After they have been married for several years he said the other day the only times he gets into them NOW is when he folds her laundry...
I started thinking by the time I got to the end of the piece, that she could have gone without them at all. And never posted, but since the point of the story was the offer of someone else's, previously worn panties that wouldn't have worked.
I spent most of my time in Vietnam without a shirt on and no underwear - if you ever wore GI boxers you would understand, the fly is never closed, but a solid year without. Maybe something earth shaking will come up tomorrow.
How would knowing who wore - and washed them before you differ - from wondering whether they were unsullied when packed at the factory?
Does anyone think they screen out the "guy" cooties, when making and packing panties? Or that they get packed, always, without some kind of tomfoolery involving heads or fantasies?
Wash em. Put 'em in the line up, toward the bottom. By the time you get to them, maybe you will think, "Hmm, they smell like my drawer drawer, they been sitting here adapting to my place for a few weeks. Must be mine, now."
But I think the Emily Post type response might be something like, "Why, thank you very much for the offer! I am afraid, though, that I must decline. I could never accept such an intimate gift. Thank you for offering!"
Thank you for the Tamalanche, Tam. :) Glad you got some grins out of this.
fast richard - I actually almost mentioned Bill Clinton writing off Goodwill donations of his Ermenegildo Zegna boxers, listing their resale value at $20...
Joel - I shall requite your courtesy. I do think your comment is odd, considering you recently blogged about someone else's brassiere garlanded across a roadway in your area. Chacun à son goût.
Ok, so the Babe is cleaning out her top drawer and there is this pile of panties. Destined for the trash, I grab them up for shop rags. She says, "Fuck you, I'll burn them before I let you have them laying around out there." Seeing the look in her eye I didn't argue despite knowing those silky little ones would make great cleaning rags for optics. Dang.
The "ick factor" is all a matter of perspective, I guess. Maybe Earl and gvi can relate. One day, leaping across a canal, ripped out the crotch of my "slightly aged" jungle fatigues. Shortly thereafter, we were loaded on a Huey and deposited in a hot LZ. Standing seemed to draw the un-wanted attention of some of the indigents with their AK47's, so decided it was best to assume a prone position behind a rice paddy dike. Said position, in about a foot of warm, muddy water, predictably drew the un-wanted attention of the local leech population. Even if I'd been wearin' green GI boxers I doubt they'd've provided the requisite protection. The "eww, ick factor" has only been realized later in life when I've mentioned to others that it's really difficult to pull a leech off of one's own scrotum. There're some things you just hesitate to ask a buddy to do, ya know? And since the accepted way to remove leeches in a hurry was to douse the critter and surrounding are with a liberal dose of insect spray, and that STINGS, I just did a manual removal. Them things are slimey, slick and hard to grip, believe me. Hope nobody's eatin' escargot while readin' this.
So ... her coworker was okay sharing panties, but freaked out at the sight of a knife? *sing-song* Weeeeeeeeirdo ...
ReplyDeleteI thought you had a problem with her posting about underwear. Then I got to the end, and I understood.
ReplyDeleteEwww...
I take comfort in the fact that two dudes would never, ever have that coversation.
ReplyDeleteJim
Let this be a reminder that, although we are nominally all one culture, we all probably do something that would gross our neighbors right the heck out.
ReplyDelete"No, you can't go play with Suzy. Her people are underwear sharers !"
This still isn't as weird as taking a tax deduction for donating used underwear to charity.
ReplyDeleteI don't understand. Doesn't that woman have a gun rag bucket?
ReplyDeleteTJP: Lacey/sparkly != good gun rag.
ReplyDeleteMaybe it's my Depression-baby attitude, but if soap and water make your undies clean enough for you to wear, what difference does it make if they were once someone else's?
ReplyDeleteChange daily? Like our guys and gals in Iraq and A-stan do?
Sorry, folks, but that "Ick" is right in there with the folks who would get upset over the work involved for turning a clucking hen into fried chicken.
Art
Hey, here's an idea.
ReplyDeleteSell the undies on-line and buy shooting stuff; ammo and guns and stuff.
You could probably charge more if you can say you wore them to the range.
This lady blogs about her panties, and thinks other people are weird?
ReplyDeleteI think perhaps I won't bookmark that one.
I think Art got this right. What's the big deal? If you ever used a washing machine that other people had used, your undies came in contact with the tub that was in contact with their undies, is that icky too?
ReplyDeleteI wouldn't offer my clothes, inner or outer, to a co-worker, but clean is clean.
Tam, you do realize that by linking to the panty post, you're kind of asking for comments from guys who will claim to have some of YOUR discarded squirrel covers?
ReplyDeleteWV: uncing. What I did when reading about the nice lady in the adjoining cubicle.
I gotta say I sort-of support the "clean is clean" line of thought, but I'm really surprised that no-one else has suggested the following response yet:
ReplyDelete"Thanks, but I think I'll take this opportunity to try Commando-style for a while."
As non sequitors go that might be worth arranging just to see the resulting expression on said helpful co-worker's face.
*golf clap* Will Brown +1.
ReplyDeleteJoanna: nothing that can't be solved by a little bleach and tile-cutting shears.
ReplyDelete"I take comfort in the fact that two dudes would never, ever have that coversation."
ReplyDeleteRobin Sage exercise a long time ago. None of us had showered in weeks - we were audibly funky. I'd kept one clean set of undergarments in a ziploc baggie for my last day in the field.
Anyway, while crossing a stream I fell in and went immediately under - the stream was stronger than any of us had expected and you can't tell how deep it is from looking at the top. I'd had all my gear on and I went straight to the bottom. I was unable to get uprighted under my own power. Quite scary. Another fellow jumped in and pulled me out.
He saved my life.
Turned out he was about my size. Guess what he got in return for bringing me back from the dead? Yup, just like the Willy and Joe comic. And he considered the bargain fair.
gvi
Whenever you talk about women's 'panties' around heterosexual, masculine men I always think of the time a buddy said he always enjoyed getting into his wife's when she was his girlfriend.
ReplyDeleteAfter they have been married for several years he said the other day the only times he gets into them NOW is when he folds her laundry...
All The Best,
Frank W. James
All The Best,
Frank W. James
I started thinking by the time I got to the end of the piece, that she could have gone without them at all. And never posted, but since the point of the story was the offer of someone else's, previously worn panties that wouldn't have worked.
ReplyDeleteI spent most of my time in Vietnam without a shirt on and no underwear - if you ever wore GI boxers you would understand, the fly is never closed, but a solid year without. Maybe something earth shaking will come up tomorrow.
@Beaumont: Tam sells her panties?
ReplyDeleteI'd go [STRIKE]start rumors{/STRIKE} make innocent inquiries about this on Arfcom, THR, and 4chan, but I'm afraid of the repercussions to my kneecaps.
How would knowing who wore - and washed them before you differ - from wondering whether they were unsullied when packed at the factory?
ReplyDeleteDoes anyone think they screen out the "guy" cooties, when making and packing panties? Or that they get packed, always, without some kind of tomfoolery involving heads or fantasies?
Wash em. Put 'em in the line up, toward the bottom. By the time you get to them, maybe you will think, "Hmm, they smell like my drawer drawer, they been sitting here adapting to my place for a few weeks. Must be mine, now."
But I think the Emily Post type response might be something like, "Why, thank you very much for the offer! I am afraid, though, that I must decline. I could never accept such an intimate gift. Thank you for offering!"
. . . None had skid marks, I trust.
Thank you for the Tamalanche, Tam. :) Glad you got some grins out of this.
ReplyDeletefast richard - I actually almost mentioned Bill Clinton writing off Goodwill donations of his Ermenegildo Zegna boxers, listing their resale value at $20...
Joel - I shall requite your courtesy. I do think your comment is odd, considering you recently blogged about someone else's brassiere garlanded across a roadway in your area. Chacun à son goût.
GVI - I think I'd file that under extenuating circumstances.
ReplyDeleteJim
Then there's the story about the dees'll fitter...
ReplyDeleteArt
Ok, so the Babe is cleaning out her top drawer and there is this pile of panties. Destined for the trash, I grab them up for shop rags. She says, "Fuck you, I'll burn them before I let you have them laying around out there." Seeing the look in her eye I didn't argue despite knowing those silky little ones would make great cleaning rags for optics. Dang.
ReplyDeleteThe "ick factor" is all a matter of perspective, I guess. Maybe Earl and gvi can relate. One day, leaping across a canal, ripped out the crotch of my "slightly aged" jungle fatigues. Shortly thereafter, we were loaded on a Huey and deposited in a hot LZ. Standing seemed to draw the un-wanted attention of some of the indigents with their AK47's, so decided it was best to assume a prone position behind a rice paddy dike. Said position, in about a foot of warm, muddy water, predictably drew the un-wanted attention of the local leech population. Even if I'd been wearin' green GI boxers I doubt they'd've provided the requisite protection. The "eww, ick factor" has only been realized later in life when I've mentioned to others that it's really difficult to pull a leech off of one's own scrotum.
ReplyDeleteThere're some things you just hesitate to ask a buddy to do, ya know? And since the accepted way to remove leeches in a hurry was to douse the critter and surrounding are with a liberal dose of insect spray, and that STINGS, I just did a manual removal. Them things are slimey, slick and hard to grip, believe me.
Hope nobody's eatin' escargot while readin' this.
Rob J
I think it comes down to "We're friends, but we're not that good of friends."
ReplyDeleteWhat's next. . . . http://pzrservices.typepad.com/vintageadvertising/2008/04/i-dreamed-i-was.html
ReplyDelete