Thursday, April 24, 2008

Hey, Look Under There! Under Where?

It's never a good sign when you find a neck brace in your underwear drawer. It can only mean one of two things: either you are incredibly kinky or you haven't cleaned out your underwear drawer in a very long time. At this point, I'd almost rather have the rest of the underwear wearing world view me as a sexual perv than admit to the mess I've made of my unmentionables.

Along with the neck brace and the socks and underpants I actually wear, I discovered five bras that no longer fit, four pairs of pulled stockings, two belts I've never worn, six beat up red socks, two ankle braces, four of those garter-belt looking thingies that keep your sheets from coming off the bed, one receipt, six granny panties, three head scarfs I never wear, one pair of hospital socks with the non-slip bottoms, four socks without a mate, black satin gloves I didn't even know I owned, an unidentifiable piece of mesh and a partridge in a pear tree.

All of this was crammed into a 12" by 24" space.

Suddenly I understand why Paris Hilton and Britney Spears party sans panties. (Hey, Sans Panties is a great name for a club.) They probably have really sloppy underwear drawers and can't find the appropriate undergarments without digging through piles of crap (okay, bad choice of words).

I wish I could just burn my bras, go commando and buy year-round sandals. But then I'd have to vote for Barack Obama. Instead I'll just vow to clean my underwear drawer on a more regular basis or try not to think about the potential embarrassment if I die and somebody I know is forced to empty it out while it's still a mess.

Now I just have to find a new place for my neck brace.


Simon Jester said...

You seem to require an unusual amount of bracing. code failures? termites?

Traci Skene said...

I had to wear a neck brace more than 20 years ago for a pinched nerve. I'm not sure why I haven't thrown it out. I guess I figure one day it might make a good Halloween costume or disguise. Most likely I fear that I'll injure my neck again just days after tossing it into the trash.

Or, to paraphrase comic Margaret Smith, maybe I'll just get tired of holding my head up.

Anonymous said...

The underwear drawer. Good god. I have things in there, underwear that looks like I was attacked by a hungry wolverine. I have underwear that I keep for when my husband and I are going to be alone? We haven't been alone in three years. Sometimes he'll look at the underwear with the face of a man that has just lost his dog, and just shake his head. Then he'll pick up a pair of the wolverine underwear and throw it in the drawer, and go watch sports.
I have Wal Mart underwear that was actually made AT Wal Mart, in there back room. The point is, I'm sexy.