If I make another year this will be my 60th as a human bean. I am still somewhat fuzzy on what I was before my entrance when mother shot me halfway across the room that cold August night. You see my mother was in the change of life when I was conceived and was fearful I might be a malignancy or something causing her to swell up down there. On the night I was born, they called for Doc Taylor, fully thinking he would come over to the farmhouse my great grandfather built just after the Civil War, just in time to ease her passing with a big shot of morphine. Old Doc Taylor was good at taking the suffering out of dying like that.
Folks all over prayed Doc Taylor would make it over to see them off when the time come. All his patients had the mask of comedy and not the mask of tragedy when they passed. Doc Taylor made death pleasant for both the witnesses and the patient. Nobody ever complained after one of Doc Taylor's final treatments.
And best of all he only charged $1.25 for a house call, shot of morphine included!
OK, I did not plan on reminessing about mother's mistake at the change of life, but that is where I started out. Doc Taylor immediately knew she was not dying, but delivering and by the time they got momma's panties down to her knees, I shot out like a rocket and got tangled up in her panties which according to all in attendance probably saved my life, you see, because momma and daddy slept on a bed that was about 5 ft off the floor. Funny my life was spared by a pair of cotton white panties when I came into the world, but there ends my luck with panties.
Panties have caused me great joy and grief in my time since. I have come to the conclusion that if it wears panties and you start fooling with it, trouble is coming your way. There is no way to predict what a panty is going to think, do or say. You can never be certain if the panty is exclusively yours or if it is being shared. If you marry a pair, and they come down from time to time, it is going to cost you in the long run.
Now don't get me wrong here, I believe in panties and the strength of the bond one can make with a pair.
I have eight lovely children through three pair of panties and funny as it may seem, all the children favor each other. And the panties are different, each and every one of them.
Panties may not rule the world, but they control an awful lot of it.
If one googles famous personages who wore panties one is struck by the diversity of results. I will not impune those still living or those so infirmed to be unable to protest or sue for defamation of charactor.
Napoleon wore panties, once confessed to an aide he liked the way it made him feel in battle. Just the other side of naughty. Also felt it made him fight harder so as not to be killed in battle and having his "little secret get out" as it would when he was undressed on the battle field by souvineer and relic hunters.
Adolf Hitler wore panties, a habit he acquired during the First World War, when he was a runner. He found panties gave him more flexibility in the girdle and hip area and made his climbing in and out of the trenches easier. He also liked that they did not crawl into his crack like the standard issue woolen german under trouser. He thought it uncouth to always be picking at his rear with his thumb and index fingers. It was not the image he was looking for in his life.
Abraham Lincoln had a pair of Mary Todd's bloomers on when he was shot at Ford's Theater.
I could go on and on on this crazy list of who in the world wears panties. But I will stop after one more famous pantier. Picasso, the painter was a pantier!
The way I look at it, panties are just underwear without the legs.
The panty is greatly maligned and misunderstood and underestimated as a force for good.
What else could one say about panties that hasn't already been said?
Ok, I will try one more. "Do these panties make my ass look big?"
No, Adolf, your ass does not look big in panties.
I better stop this now. I have a load of panties in the dryer that need to be folded and put away.
Happy New Year!
Jackson Delano Maybolt, Urban Poverty Law Center, President
And yeah, I made all that up. Just poppycock. jdm
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