Hooray! 300 posts of nonsensical gibberish! We made it, baby! 300 today! Yea! Where’s my stripper in a cake? What? What do you mean budgetary issues? Ah, come on! Really? Oh. What a shame. I mean, I mean – what a… victory, for, for feminists. Ahem. I did say in my 200th post that I’d make this question about Swedish animals but I find underwear more interesting than Sweden. I will add that question to my list of questions to answer, though, but for today, we’re onto the important issue of underwear.
But what is underwear? I suppose we all know unless you’re a hippy due to their au naturel attitude and preference of bodily hirsutism. Nothing against it, I just don’t want to look at that whilst I’m trying to eat my cornflakes in the local café. I fear I may have become sidetracked. Underwear is, of course, a form of underclothing worn to protect your modesty and genitals from outside harm, like being kicked in the nuts by a rampaging hobo. Typically, underwear is changed every day, although it is fairly common for men to simply reverse said underwear to prolong the life of said underwear. It’s sort of like women farting. They all do it but it’s not something they’d admit to.
Of course, the ultimate question is thus: which underwear is the best? Indeed, a question that has plagued mankind since about two minutes ago. Well then, darlings, let’s get to it. And yes, I agree, this does feel wrong and looks very wrong on my internet history.
I had a lot of fun researching this. I learnt a lot. I don’t know a lot about underwear, so it was an interesting exercise. Of course, I’m at a distinct disadvantage as I have only ever worn one type of underwear. I’m like that. Never change.
I’ve never understood thongs. They look really uncomfortable and yes, they may be sexy, but nobody is going to see it unless you’re a tad promiscuous. Women only wear them to impress men and really, ladies, the only time we ever see them is at a time when we’d, erm, rather, erm, you know, not see them. If you know what I mean. Ahem. We’re not into foreplay. It’d be sexier if we wore them. In principle. Moving on. Jockstraps. Oh, dear, God, have mercy. Oh, I pity you, readers. I have to Google image search these types of underwear. Oh, God help me. Why, why, why? Who in their right mind would wear a jockstrap – oh, hell – has anyone got any bleach for my eyes? And the fact you’re jewels are hardly supported is only the tip of the iceberg. What about the back? THERE IS NO BACK! Nobody likes cold arse cheeks! It feels wrong. Oh, God. Please don’t Google jockstrap for the sake of your sanity. Oh. Moving on. Boy shorts. There’s a big clue as the fact you’re in the wrong department. Well, I can’t fault them, really. They’re convenient. A bit tight. I never understood tight underwear. Like to feel the wind in my, erm, upper thigh region. Hopefully the next men’s underwear is a bit nicer than the last – ARRGH! G-STRING! ARRGH! OH DEAR GOD! ARRGH!
Women really are awfully persnickety about underwear. Hip huggers. They look like somebody shrunk boy shorts in the wash. They look even tighter as well. I mean, do women not value good blood circulation around the arse area? Really seems that way. Ah, onto men. Oh, crap. Male bikini bottoms. Ahem – why? Why not just put a sock around it and leave it at that? Oh. I think I’m gonna be sick. Lace underwear, next. It is just me, or is the women’s underwear shrinking? It only covers half the arse. It’s like going outside during a snowstorm wearing a thick, woolly hat, big scarf and a nicely insulated massive jacket, and for trousers, you’ve gone for none whatsoever. Long underwear. Now, now, now. My kinda territory. 19th century Victorian undergarments. Beautiful. I can’t verify that beauty, however, as I’ve never worn a pair before.
Classic underwear for women is equally as sensible. Proper underwear. I mean, if you’re a women and in a tizzy over what underwear to buy, get them. I mean, I’m hardly an underwear expert, as you may or may not have figured out, but the classic type for girls really is the bee’s knees. But I’m not a woman so I can hardly pick them. Male briefs. Nah. I hate tight underwear. Plus, it’s the symbol at the heart of metrosexuality, too. If there’s one part of the body we shouldn’t focus on looking a billion dollars, it’s the part of the body people would pay a billion dollars to avoid. If you’re me. Sniff.
Trunks. Trunky underwear. Very much a teenage male underwear of choice. I feel indifferent to trunks. They don’t look like underwear. They’re very much the Y-fronts of Generation X. Not very sexy. They’re anti-thong. Great for festivals, but not great for the girls. Women shouldn’t worry about what men think of their underwear but men should definitely worry about what women think of ours. Women judge us on strange things like that. It’s just undies. Why are you making such a fuss? I made you dinner, for flip’s sake! I love you so, so much and now we’re both in our underwear in my bedroom and you’re making judgments on my underwear? Well, I’ll tell you what love, you order the pizza from Pizza Hut next time.
I’m a loose boxer man. I’ve never really contemplated underwear, before. Why I wear them. I just do, I suppose. Helps to prevent genital undulation. Comfy. Things like that. Boxers are all I’ve ever worn. I’ve never worn any other type of underwear. Or even held another type of underwear. I’m a loose boxer man. And I always will be. Because they’re my favourite, favourite, favourite type of underwear.
So there, readers, was my 300th post. Just a little something for you to get to know me a bit better after all this time. A much longer post than normal, but I hope you didn’t mind. I enjoyed this one and I’ve enjoyed the previous 299. Thank you, readers, for all your continued support of this tiny little blog. It really means a lot. So thank you all.
Go on then, readers. What’s your favourite type of underwear? I swear that’s not as perverted as it sounds. Well, maybe a little…
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