So I’m over at a my friend Travis’ place the other day, helping him clean out The Room From Hell. (On a historic and interesting side-note, The Room From Hell used occasionally been my room when I was didn’t think I could drive home… but we won’t talk about that, will we?) The Room From Hell has since become the place where mortals dare not venture. Unless of course it’s to put things out of sight that you don’t want in other rooms of the home. You know, the junk room.
The Room From Hell also features a bed. The same bed I used to sleep on. And on that bed were sheets than needed cleaning. I’m guessing that they hadn’t been cleaned in a while, because for Travis to actually admit that they needed to be washed is a big step. Like a good friend who’s been promised a sushi lunch if she helped, I took the sheets downstairs to the common laundry room. I always hated using that room. I still do. I just never liked the idea of having to dodge possible conversations from other people while they washed their clothes and looked at you.
While I was putting the sheets in the dryer, a girl came about my age, came rushing in dressed in gold satin pants and a black tank top. Being a catty person, I snuck another look at her while she was bending over to take her own things out of a dryer and put them in a laundry basket. Sure enough I was able to see what kind of underwear she had on because of her very visible panties lines (Normally a big “faux pas” for girls). In case anyone out there is taking notes, she was wearing full-ass granny panties.
Normally I wouldn’t care, nor would I be looking at some chick’s ass, but I happen to notice because 1) I’m catty and I always look at other people to see if they look worse than I do so I can feel better about turning 30 this week. And 2) you can tell a lot about a person by the clothes they wear.
I myself never wear full-ass panties. Bikini-panties (the really high-cut ones that actually do give off impressive panty-lines in certain pants) are as full-ass as I’ll go. I’m not sure why I won’t wear the other ones. Normally those ugly granny ones are saved for those special days in a girl’s life that come once a month (It’s a chick thing, trust me…) or, as I could see, saved for laundry day when you just don’t give a shit what you wear because you’re spending your day off cleaning your clothes.
After all, you’re doing your laundry. It’s not like you’re going to meet the man of you dreams and get laid on the washing machine during the spin cycle, so who cares what you wear, right? Well not in my case. Remember that fear mothers used to put into the minds of their children by saying “Are you wearing clean underwear? I hope so. What happens if you get hit by a bus? You’d want to be wearing cleaning underwear if that happened.” Yes. Or I’d rather not get hit by a bus at all. Well I’m the person who takes that to the next level.
Not only are they clean, they’re also nice. So if a bus comes crashing through the walls of the laundry room and kills me and the gold satin pants girl, one of us won’t get laughed at when we’re lying on the coroner’s table.
I just thought I’d share all that with you as a hint to watch the Mini Poll and vote for some of the interesting underwear related questions that pop-up from time to time. Ta! I hope everyone had a nice weekend.