I am important. And not just self-important, but other people rely on my knowledge and insight. I have a lofty important title at work. I have a corner office. A real office, not just a glorified cubicle, my desk and door are both made of wood (or wood particulate...let's not split hairs.)
All that said, I find it necessary to share that yesterday, I wore baby blue boxer shorts covered in flying pigs. Monday, little race cars.
I haven't always worn boxers, I grew up tight and white, snug as a thug. Cool white cotton, softly cradling my 'personal area'. Somewhere along the line, I started the slow transition to boxers (briefs with loose dress pants, boxers with jeans), and once I made the final transition in my mid-20's, I haven't looked back.
Sure, I could still wear tighties, and I could also tuck my tee shirt into them like they do in the ads. But really. Briefs and I had a parting of the ways, and never again will we meet. Can you see me in my BVD's, gloriously parading like King Fahd on some Saudi beach?
You can now, I'm sure.
I've tried the Switzerland of undergarments, the boxer brief, and while I could see the appeal while wearing loose-fitting shorts at the gym, said gym membership was also 'brief', and back to boxers I went.
What about you, dear reader? What fantastic or failed experiments have you experienced in the fine world of undergarments?
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