Okay, I’m just saying, alright? This might possibly be the reason women are so incredibly fucked up about their bodies. I can’t lie to you. I feel a little sick right now. Not like disgusted due to moral outrage kind of sick, but like sick.

Legitimately and physically ill.

Listen, let me just tell you something, okay? If the three of these guys are any indication of the standard homo sapiens of the male variety then we are just fucked. Fucked!

Scott sounds a like a pedophile between his obvious taste for the pure and simple panties over the “nasty, dirty, whorish” knickers a common mistress might wear. Mistresses? Really, Scott? I’m going out on a limb here, but I’m pretty sure if your husband is out sticking it everywhere it doesn’t belong, especially sticking it to those type of girls wearing those kinky knickers, then you’ve probably got bigger problems than what kind of panties you’re wearing to bed.

Simon is just plain confused. He sounds like he’s had one too many helpings of crazies with a side of crazy and it’s beginning to take its toll. He doesn’t know if he wants Mary Ann or Ginger or both at the same time. He can’t decide if he wants em young or hugging the grave. I’d wager he just takes all comers, so long as they’re wearing the right panties.

And Alex is clearly disgusted by all those syrupy sweet getups with all that…cloth. He wants one thing: access. And he wants it two hours ago. Alex doesn’t want anything but the barest slips of fabric, strategically placed, on his women.

Seriously? Which is it then? Good girl? Bad? Stripper? Virgin? A healthy mixture of the three, perhaps? Maybe that’s the answer. Maybe we should wake up in the morning, test the wind, cross ourselves and then slip into the day’s persona, beginning with our underwear.

“I think today I shall be a common whore. Now where’s my black garter?”
“Today I think he might be in the mood for a school girl. I should get out the white cotton set.”

This will be how we determine which of the myriad of choices laid out before us will adorn our breasts, hips and legs. Besides divining from the pale, blue mists of his mind what flavor he’s in the mood for today between the confusing and oft times conflicting characters, we also need to make sure whatever we choose is easily accessible, flattering lest we show any physical flaws at all and cheap as well – I don’t know many men who are aroused by tacky Wal Mart polyester but not a one of them will complain about the price tag. All this so we can attract and entice our male counterparts — oh, and all that stuff about feeling pretty and empowered by our bodies. Etc. Etc.

Meanwhile, seriously? Are you listening? This is what a guy does. This is what Alex and Scott and Simon do. They pick up from one of three, count them, THREE choices: Boxers, Briefs and Boxer Briefs. That’s it. The end. There ain’t no more, Sally. Just you think about this. They pick from those three choices and their whole thought process goes like this, here I made a handy little chart for you — just in case it gets confusing:

Yeah? Yeah, you just think about that.