Dirty Laundry

My gym teachers all proved to be right.

I have recently worn panties.

Possibly.

"Whose panties are these?" This is de other one.

She's holding them up, gingerly.
And against her ample bosom, I notice for the first time that they do seem rather...

Petite.

"Oh, those are mine."

Because it's a few months ago.

And I'm around the bay and I have once more forgotten to pack underwear.

If it hadn't been underwear, it would've been my toothbrush.

Breen was always telling me to take them off and I couldn't fathom why.

"Cause you're wearing some stranger's drawers!" She often exclaimed.

But she didn't understand.

I found them in my parent's house.

Which means, in some decade, mudder washed 'em.

Which meant they were fine.

They were pure.

I thought they were a pair that Colin wore before he really enacted his *baloney diet.

They just looked like the sort of thing that Shandera would wear.

Making them inappropriate on me, sure, but otherwise fine.

"You can tell by the cut of them!" This is de other one again.

"No, I think they're mens'."
"Then why is there a Playboy Bunny on them?!"

I thought that was supposed to make them sexy.

"I thought that was supposed to make them sexy," I say.

In hindsight, they were always quite tight (toight).

*I know how to spell it properly.

But with Colin, you have to pronounce it 'baloney,' or it doesn't work.