I have a recurring problem that keeps me up almost every night: my boxers are too tight around my legs. Now, literally every article of clothing I wear squeezes me. I’m not normally claustrophobic, but I’m starting develop a case of it. I could be in an open field and feel closed in because of my stupid, tight clothes. To make matters worse, I roll around quite a bit when I sleep which creates even tighter boxers. I have to reemphasize that they are tight around my legs and not my belly because I’m sure you’re probably thinking, why doesn’t he just buy bigger undies? The problem with bigger boxers is they wouldn’t fit and would dip down below my waist. That would be a whole new can of worms. I could imagine going through my day and feeling my boxers inch down my body. I would constantly be tugging at them to keep them up, and eventually, I would need underwear suspenders. Then it’s like, what the hell am I doing?
For the past 3 weeks, I’ve been cutting a 2 inch or so slit on the sides of my boxers before bed. It gives me a ton of more room to maneuver in my sleep. My comfort level has gone up 10 fold! I feel free and easy, and more importantly for the rest of you, I don’t feel like running amuck through the streets of downtown Houston, climbing buildings, and knocking machine gun shooting biplanes to the ground. Boxers with a slit in the side are my gorilla tranquillizer.
A problem has occurred with this once viable solution. When I drop my keys or something and squat down to pick them up, I hear a riiiiip. Work legs at the gym. Riiiiip. Do a karate kick. Riiiiip. Do a broad jump over the hot dog wiener juice I spilled on the ground. Riiiiip. All of my boxers have turned into loincloths! Almost every pair is torn up to the elastic waist on both sides. Is this where things have gotten to in my life? The only way for me to be comfortable is to wear a loincloth for underwear. No, I mustn’t get down; I need to stay positive. Loincloths are cool. I’m freakin’ Shaka Zulu! *After reading about him on Wikipedia, it appears he wore more of a mini-skirt. I’m freakin’ Tarzan, maybe. I don’t know.
Seriously, let’s think about it. What is the point of underwear for men? Obviously, so your wiener doesn’t get caught in the zipper. Like, that’s the number one reason to wear underwear. Also, sometimes there is an errant drip that just doesn’t want to come out at the proper time (By the way, I’m sorry women: this happens. It’s a tad gross but it’s true. If you’re a dude and you’re reading this thinking, Oh my word! That never happens to me – you’re a liar). Anyways, undies wave their finger at that lone droplet and say, “Uh-uh! You ain’t getting on these pants.” Regardless, my loincloth serves those purposes plus isn’t a hindrance to the range of motion of my legs. The loincloth is superior!
So if I ever get to a point where I’m running for office and a youth asks me the infamous boxers or briefs question a la Bill Clinton, I can look that young American in the eye and say, “Loincloth,” and then beat my chest like Tarzan or Shaka Zulu or a Sumo wrestler or whatever.
*Update: My brother came up with a better idea in my comments section. Check out his link.