Under here, under there, underwear

Panties, boxers, briefs, undies, skivvies, fundies, spankies, lollies, knickers, going commando, no matter your preference, we all have an opinion on underwear. I fall into the yes and no category for wearing underwear with running as nearly always being a time to go commando. Maybe I feel more in tune with the bitches then since they are 100% commando. One of my friends hasn’t worn undies in something like 30 years. I tend to see underwear as more fun than necessary with bras being a completely different story and absolutely necessary. We’ve all known that old lady that should give up Woodstock and strap up those bad girls in a tit sling. Plus, the type of physical activities I enjoy coupled with the well-endowed genetics from my mom’s side made that decision for me.

But enough about boobies, let’s go back below the belt. Having made no effort to study the history of underwear, I only have my life experience from which to draw. Although I must say I would definitely watch a History Channel feature on the history of underwear, if anyone knows of such a program or has any pull. I guess we are socialized to think underwear is important when we are kids. It’s the natural transition from our diapers and the marketing geniuses made sure every kid in America could have Luke Skywalker or Strawberry Shortcake on his or her ass. And somewhere along the way, lots of dudes gravitate for the greater freedom of boxers or simply give up the skivvies for the most part. Not us girls… I speak of the thong epidemic. If I had a dollar for every teenage girl I have seen with acres of her thong peeking out of her low-rise jeans, I wouldn’t have to go to work tonight. Don’t get me wrong, I am not anti-thong and do own several, I just feel that ass cleavage is a private matter. It is an especially private matter when one’s weight is in excess of 200 pounds. Anyone privy to the ass cleavage incident of the old table 67 at work will back that statement.

The interesting thing about the teenage girls and the thong is that they have been brainwashed to think it’s sexy. It’s about as sexy as the toilet on the “Rock of Love” tour bus. It’s such a rarity that less is more and it seems like they are absorbing the message of showing all the goods as sexy before they even have a chance to develop into a woman and realize that sexy has more to do with what’s between your ears than what’s between your legs or in your bra. Any guy worth his weight will tell you that because he has learned not to objectify women. Any chick that has that figured out probably also has a few nice things from Victoria’s Secret that make her feel sexy. And her non-objectifying man friend probably could tell you ten reasons she’s sexy in addition to anything she might wear. I just wish I could pull a few of these girls aside and explain to them that their sexuality has a power that will develop over time. They just gotta have a little faith and patience or they could very well be 21 and expecting the third baby with the third daddy. Thong to three times pregnant might seem like a bit of a stretch, but a friend was just invited to a baby shower for someone in that very situation. And so it goes…

One time I put a bra on Alli. It was a maroon lacey thing and the only time she didn’t fight me for trying to put clothing on her. She never wanted anything to do with the doggie sweaters or any of that nonsense. She would shake and pull and try to bite anything else off. Maybe she felt sexy. Maybe I should throw a thong on Joey later and see what happens…