Thursday, January 19, 2006

I have this tendency to pick fights with inanimate objects. It's probably symptomatic of being passive-aggressive and unable to pick on anything living that might make you feel guilty afterwards. In the past, I've had it out with a shower head (I won), a cheeseburger (the cheeseburger won), and a deck of cards (it was a draw), and today, I took on a pair of itchy underpants that Inspector #21 somehow let slip by. It was an epic battle, me with a pair of scissors trying to snip off the tag versus the underwear with that elastic waistband that made it really hard to get the scissors around the damn thing. I was tugging at the tag, fraying it, hoping to expose some of the thread holding it on, and like twenty minutes later, I was victorious. Take that, inferior underpants!

But the real reason I bring this up is that I just found out that I share a birthday with underpants, and I couldn't possibly be more amused.

What? What lame article of clothing was invented on your birthday? Socks? Earmuffs? Face it: you're just jealous.