My ass is cold tonight.
Let me tell you a little something about Victoria’s Secret. Their underwear costs the approximate amount of a 1994 Nissan Sentra, and their underwear would fit comfortably on an M&M. Not even a fucking peanut M&M, but a regular, classic, dime-sized M&M. While I actually have a concave derriere, my front guttage area more than makes up for my non-butt. That’s why my jeans always fit so well when I would wear them backwards on backwards day during sprit week in high school. Whomp, whomp. But Vicki’s underwear is so small that I could go to Michaels, buy a swatch of fabric and some ribbon, swing by Coldstones because there is a Coldstones conveniently located next to my local Michaels, go home, eat my frozen treat, and make the same underwear for under $3. My fucking ice-cream would cost 3 times that. Gotta Have It my ass (too bad I really do, though). Sorry, Vicki, but I’m not paying $18 for a perma-wedgie. The only thing I would buy from there would be a $48 before tax bra so that I could go home and hang myself with it after seeing this shit all up in my grill.
You think I wanna see this ho's football-sized vag in my face as I’m trying not to think about how my arm is the same circumference as this bitches waist? Depressing. Back to Coldstones we go.
So anyway, that is why I do not shop at Victoria’s Secret.
I instead choose to purchase my under things at the following locations: Target, K-mart, and Sears. Here’s a little tip that the people on the style network won’t tell you: FOR UNDER $7, YOU CAN GET 6 PAIRS OF AWESOME, COMFORTABLE UNDERWEAR. You walk your ass into one of these stores, try not to make eye-contact with all of the people with wonky, lazy eyes that are bound to be shopping there, and you sail into the underwear section and find the wall of wonder. Hanes and Fruit of the Loom make amazing cotton underwear that come rolled up in neat little bundles, sealed with love and a piece of scotch tape. They have different styles and types, and I love to get the granniest ones (I refuse to say the word that rhymes with schmanties) that I can find that go way above my belly button. They are essentially gym shorts from the 70’s, and I love them. It is heaven in your pants. Don't knock it till ya rock it, ladies. Instead of regular sizes, they come in sizes 2-10, which in regular people world is size range xs-xxxl. It’s probably the only time I will ever be a size 6…There are 5 pairs in a pack, and they usually include a bonus pair for the low price of $6.87. Total. CHA-CHING. Is there anything better than this in life? Sitting in a suede recliner chair in $1.14 underwear while eating ice-pops and watching High School Musical 2 is essentially how I wanna leave this world. No shame. No regrets.
The only downside to my packages of underwear rolls is that they often come in really dumb patterns. Beige and turquoise dandelions, shooting starts, gray and pink hearts, dumb shit like that. I do not let this stand in the way of my purchase, though. Still too sweet of a deal. And it’s not like anyone but me sees these bad boys, anyway. Actually, my aunt does, too, when I trick her into doing my laundry, but she doesn’t judge. She has no right to. She walks all the way to 7-11 just to buy Mountain Dew and taquitos. Okay, B. Spears in 2006. Tonight, I thought I had the perfect solution- BLEACH. My understanding of the powers of bleach is that you can put any fabric in bleach, swirl that mess around, let it soak for a little, and a short time later, the items in there would be white! Eureka (‘s Castle was the best show ever)! I tried this tonight. I got six new, still taped-up pairs of my unmentionables (which I’ve actually mentioned quite a bit), and tossed those babies into some undiluted bleach. Remember when Cher tried to bake that dude cookies by just dropping the whole log on a cookie sheet…
So I went babysitting, got harassed and taunted by some tweens, pretty much my usual evening. I got home a few hours later, scooped myself a cup of blue Marino’s ice, ate it while laughing at all of the misfortunes of the teen moms on Teen Mom, then went to take a shower. I opened the shower curtain and saw my 5-gallon bucket of bleach. It was quite the pleasant surprise because I had forgotten about those suckers. I peeked in only to find…beige and turquoise dandelions, shooting stars, and gray and pink hearts! What the fuck, bleach? Do your fucking job, bleach! Pissed off that my experiment didn’t work, I went to fish them out using a wire hanger, and the point of the hanger poked right through my drawers! Okay, I chalked it up to a freakishly sharp hanger. I got some of the latex gloves that I stole from my grandma’s hospital room over the weekend (I’m a legit medical supplies klepto), and put them on. As soon as my hand lifted the rim of one of the pairs from out of the bucket, the whole thing just tore to shreds and disintegrated! Who the fuck am I, Edward Scissorhands?? It was like wet tissue paper. I thought that maybe it was just a freak pair (?) and I went to get the next one and THE SAME THNG HAPPENED. Tore apart like beef that had been in a crock-pot for a week. Why did no one ever tell me that when trying to remove the flowers off of your underwear, you could not sit them in a bucket of concentrated bleach for 5 hours? Thanks a lot, “friends” and “loved ones”. Assholes.
So now I’m out $6.87, I have to go buy Dar-Dar some more bleach because I used 80% of the entire container, and I have to go back to k-mart with the lazy-eyed, camo wearing people and get some new underwear. Worth the trip.