the underwear incident
what you are looking at in the above photograph is the remains of the underwear i wore on friday night. you may wonder to yourself, "why it all tore up like that?"
gentle reader, read on:
friday night, chris and i went to the endup for fag fridays. we were supposed to meet juanita more there for cocktails and debauchery, a winning combination no matter how you look at it. throw in some juanita, some "more boys" and even more cocktails, and you're bound to have a good time.
so good, you just might get your underwear ripped and burned off of your body.
oh yes, you read that right.
it all started when chris decided to stick his hand down the back of my pants. i was wearing my absolute favorite pair of calvin klein briefs, because they're so comfortable and also showed off my butt and package quite nicely. chris had been tugging on them before, and had caused a small hole to rip, right in my taint area, in fact. anyway, chris started tugging on this hole, and made it much, much bigger.
"hey! what the fuck are you doing?" i protested. chris said nothing, but he got that really evil, evil look in his eyes he gets when he's about to inflict owies on someone. he grinned and yanked really, really hard. there was a loud ripping sound, accompanied by a few staccato yelps that burst forth from my mouth, partly because i couldn't believe my boyfriend would try to give me a power-wedgie at the fucking endup, partly because it kinda hurt.
but it was a good hurt. oh, you know what i mean.
by now, we had caused a small commotion that was attracting attention, namely mr. david, also known as glamamore. mr. david came rushing over and assisted chris in ripping my underwear up to my fucking armpits. now, juanita and a few of her boys were watching us at this point, along with some other club patrons, and then things got ugly.
at this point, the waistband was almost to my head, and one of my balls was caught in the remains of what was once the little pouch that holds your balls. i was in pain, but also laughing hysterically and maybe just a little tipsy. mr david, seeing i was in pain, whipped out his lighter and set part of the underwear on fire, causing it to eventually rip. the pressure finally relieved, the entire mess of torn spandex, cloth, and thread slipped over my head and into mr. david's hand.
they were completely fucking demolished. no, really. look:
i never even undid my belt buckle, and there i was, going commando at the goddamn fucking endup.
juanita decided to make a bracelet out of my underwear, wrapping one of the pieces of it around my wrist, the other part around chris's wrist. we spent the rest of the night like that, even afterward when our whole entourage went to grubstake on pine street.
but i digress.
juanita and mr. david decided they weren't done, and grabbed chris. within 30 seconds, his underwear were also torn off of his body and recycled as a bracelet. by now, juanita and david had the taste of underwear blood in their mouths and started grabbing unsuspecting patrons for underwear sacrifice. it was quite a sight to be seen...boys getting their panties torn and burned off for fashion's sake.
only at the endup, i guess.
the next day, i was fretting...my favorite pair of underwear was completely destroyed, so i decided to frame the transamerica pyramid in the waistband:
now, i took all of those photos up on my roof, and when i was done, one of my neighbors across the alley was staring at me, wondering why the hell i was holding my tattered underwear up in the air and snapping pictures of it.
if only he knew.