Tag Archives: underwear

Walk the walk

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Disclaimer: Despite the title, at no time during this blog will you find anything touchy-feely, enlightening, or socially redeeming. If you want self-awareness and personal growth, you should try www.DrPhil.com.

A well known author claimed that all writers should make a New Year’s resolution to “own” their profession. Even if your day job involves cow cadavers and goat guts, you need to define yourself first and foremost as a writer (and seriously consider a new day job).

Police officers have uniforms. Road workers have those ugly orange vests. Lawyers have Rolexes, penis cars, and $500 Italian leather shoes. Writers have half-price underwear. Since I don’t walk around with my Fruit of the Looms outside my pants (except on Tuesdays), how are people supposed to know my profession just by looking at me?

crime scene I was at a mystery shop in downtown Charleston last week, shamelessly trying to peddle my books when I saw it. It was blindingly yellow and majestic. Even though yellow makes my skin look like I just ate three pounds of undercooked pork, I knew it would be mine.

I walked out of the shop with my new scarf and a spring in my step. I looked like the epitome of a mystery writer, or a serial killer. I knew now that I would have the respect and admiration of all my non-writery peers. “Look at me owning it!” I thought.

My peers were staring blatantly at my scarf, or my boobs. Either way it was a win. I couldn’t attract any more attention unless my fly was down, and I had toilet paper stuck to my shoe. Do I regret spending $24 for a scrap of yellow fabric that accentuates the bags under my eyes? I figure it still looks better than Fruit of the Loom Tuesdays.

What are you wearing, baby?

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You know the drill. Pick on some poor hapless blogger, and challenge them to answer the following nine questions about their underwear. Boy, William, did you pick the wrong blogger!

1. What do you call your underwear / undergarments?

It’s usually pretty dark when I’m rooting around in my drawer in the mornings. When I pull one out to examine it, I usually call it “too small”, “too ratty”, or “instant wedgie”.

2. Have you ever had that supposedly common dream of being in a crowded place in only your underwear?

Nope. I’ve frequently dreamt that I was naked in a class or at a party. My overriding thought is, “just act natural and nobody will notice.”

3. What is the worst thing you can think of to make underwear out of?

Duct tape. You’ll never want to take them off.

4. If you were a pair of panties, what color would you be?

White. Hey, I’m old.

5. Have you ever thrown your underwear at a rock star or other celebrity? If so, which one(s)? If not, which one(s) would you throw your underwear at, given the opportunity?

No. If I could, I’d throw them at Carrot Top. He’s annoying enough that he deserves a good dose of E Coli.

6. You’re out of clean underwear. What do you do?

In the back of my drawer I have a black silk loincloth. It takes a mechanical engineering degree to figure out all the straps and buckles. I reserve it only for dire laundry emergencies.

7. Are you old enough to remember Underroos? If so, did you have any? Which ones?

Underroos were after my time. I’m old enough that all underwear came in plain vanilla.

8. If you could have any message printed on your underwear, what would it be?

Wide load.

9. How many bloggers does it take to put panties on a goat?

One, as long as it’s William. He could sweet-talk a goat into anything. I still have the pictures to prove it.

I have a short list of victims.

Terri Sonoda

What are you wearing, baby?

This old thing?

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I have a pair of cowboy boots that are older than my children. Unlike my kids, the boots have been through a lot of sh*t and never complained. I also have clothes left over from the industrial revolution. I can’t throw away perfectly good culottes, just because they’re missing a button. Recently, I’ve fallen far behind on my laundry, which has engendered the sentimental journey from hell. Continue reading →