Everyone has a memorable undies story, just of varying pH levels. Barf. Mine’s a pretty basic story of kid overexcitement. I was in the second grade, in the speech trailer. Just me, Aric Garafalo, and our teacher. I had to take speech class (for years) because of my speech problem. I had things to learn about speech.
On this particular day, we were about to use a future computer for the first time. I couldn’t believe it. In just a few minutes, I would be basking in all of this machine’s electromagnetic fields of glory. “I LOVE SPEECH!” I could not wait to type this in ALL CAPS. Typing letters, and numbers, in green. And, typing more letters, and then some more numbers, and letters again, in green. Deleting. Re-typing. Looking down, looking up. Mesmerized by the blinking green rectangle-square. The black monitor aglow with B’s and R’s and O’s…Soooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many O’s. My finger pokes summoning yellow and blue to mix somewhere behind the screen, and the hard-to-say-word from today’s lesson, would appear for me, to then struggle to pronounce aloud. All this, thanks to the technological advances in magic.
I was so close. But, there still was a line. A 2-person line. Aric Garafalo then me. But, I had to pee. Blast! I could NOT lose this spot in line. I waited all of 37 seconds so far. I needed to touch it, now! …Maybe, if I just pee here while standing up-on the line, no one would notice. That way, I’d release the pressure in my bladder and still be equally as close to the computer. That was the plan. If I didn’t acknowledge the Niagara falling out from under my plaid uniform, no one else would.
Release. Me, standing there on line in plain sight, just playing it cool. While the horror played out from behind the seams of my skirt. Cabbage Patch Kids drowning. Xavier Roberts screaming. A warm, light yellow pool gathering at the foot of Aric Garafalo’s penny loafers. Mrs. Turtletits was on to me. ‘Dances with Pee Wolves’ was over.
It was the color of my underwear that I would never forget. I lifted my skirt in the bathroom to reveal my unbridled kid wonderment had soaked my Cabbage Patch Kid ‘roos into a new color. Floating, alternating girl/boy-boy/girl cabbage patch kid heads, each placed on either end of a rainbow, were now set against a very, deep deep purple backdrop…This is my personal word association memory for the word: undies.
For the women resident’s from the town of Preesall in the UK, their collective memory for the word undies, is going to be a little bit different, because of a panty thief who was on the loose for months. Balls-ily breaking into women’s homes and helping himself to their intimates. Below is a re-creation of a potential internal dialogue, that at least one lady might have had relation to- The Great Panty Caper of ’09.
“Am I going f*&g!!! nuts? Are my underwear disappearing? What the f? Where are they going? Is someone taking them?… Are my underwear being taken by someone? Where are they going????!!!! Noooo…. Who would—, maybe,..uhhh,….is it creepy Lenny the Super? My roommate’s boyfriend? Could it be Rolland?-lead singer from ‘Buckets of Thunder’ who seems to be over here all the time now???? Is it creepy Lenny the super???? It’s Lenny the Super!….No, he wouldn— Is it Gill from Gillsville, Tom from Tomsville, Shane from Shanetown, Tim, Eric, Roy, Dave, Stan, Tyler, Mitch, that guy who fixed the radiator, Samson, Orson, Javier, Bardem, Keifer from Skateworld, Anderson from Up Your Butt Tacos, Miles from Miles-station, the gardener, the pool boy, the milkman, my dentist, the postman, Lara’s dog, that flock of turkey buzzards, mathematicians, fighter pilots, drug dealers, cake bakers, needle-nosed Ned,…is this what the Ambien is making me do… creepy Lenny??? …WHO THE FUCK?”
Who the F&%$? You ask…
How about public elected official, Ian Stafford.
IT. WAS. THE MAYOR…………………………………..(click here;).
photo courtesy: American Digest