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I see England, I see France... 2004-07-05 - 9:17 a.m. If you never see another post from me, it�s because I will be hit by a bus tonight. I am virtually guaranteeing this seemingly unforeseeable twist of fate by wearing the rattiest underpants known to mankind*. Men, you might not think of this, particularly if you don�t live with a woman, but we gals wear our pretty underthings for most of the month, ugly underthings for �that time of the month� and, at least in my case, our worst, most throw-out-able underthings for when we might be expecting it but don�t know precisely when it will strike. Since I figure mine is way overdue, this seems like a reasonable time for the �I don�t care about these; they need chucking anyway,� pairs. Just for the record, the degree of charmed life a pair of underwear leads seems inversely proportional to how flattering/comfortable they are. Ugly, tatty, hole-y underwear? Indestructible. The Houdini of the undergarments; unrivaled in their ability to escape peril. Pretty, comfy underwear? DOOMED! Hmmm� maybe my strategy is flawed. If I do want to beckon forth the flow, what I should be doing is wearing underwear that I don�t, under any circumstances, want to have besmirched. This stuff? Let�s just say it will be seeing the inside of a wastebasket in lieu of a washing machine when I�m done with it this round. Even I have my limits. -------------- * These days, my husband is actually the only �man� in �mankind�. -------------- Psst. Sorry if you were locked out this weekend. I accidentally forwarded my mother an email with my URL. The horror! I figured I'd lock it up until she'd either erased the email or until she checked the link and found it didn't lead anywhere.
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