LARGETONY Blog

It’s official. I hate tighty-whitey underwear. I never have liked them very much. But now I am going on record. So, It’s official. I hate them. And it’s not just the whiteys. I’m talking about underwear of color, too. I hate the tighty-whiteys and the constricting coloreds.

Yes, I own a few pairs of briefs. My drawers drawer contains all of the Big Three of men’s underwear (Briefs, Boxers, and Boxer Briefs). But I mostly wear the boxer briefs. They don’t feel as binding as briefs and they support a lot better than boxers.

Occasionally I do wear boxers because, as I’m sure many of you will agree, sometimes a guy just likes the feeling of banging around down there. But, while that heavy slap of your best friend against your thigh can be pretty cool, sitting on your nuts isn’t.

A little support can be a good thing. Boxer briefs support so good that I feel like my jewels are PBS and my underpants are a pledge drive. About the only better combination of support and comfort is a jock strap, but they are really such silly looking things I pretty much reserve them for playing sports or entertaining a special friend. “Gee, Coach, do you think this might be a hernia?”

I can’t get into the whole thong or bikini thing. Anything that is too small to have a tag is too small to have me. But I would wear a thong or bikini before I ever wear a pair of briefs again. Why?…The Pinch.

In know briefs were not popular until the 20th century, but I bet they were invented in medieval times. The leg holes are torture devices. If you have ever worn briefs, and you have testicles, then you know what I’m talking about.

Women and professional bodybuilders will have to try to imagine. Women, stop reading, go put on a sports bra, then yank half a boob out the underarm and see what it feels like. Multiply it by eleven. And when you do it, try to get mostly skin, not the meaty part. You’ll get the picture. Hmm…I guess bodybuilders can do the same thing.

Of course the difference in the pinched boob experiment and the pinched testicle reality is that in the pinched testicle reality, you don’t see the Pinch coming. The Pinch sneaks up on you. You’re suddenly wondering why your scrotum is screaming at you and cursing your unborn children when you haven’t even moved.

All of a sudden, there’s an episode of “Prison Break” going on in your underwear, and one brother has broken free and gotten trapped crawling under the fence that is the leg hole of your briefs. You’ve got a kitten stuck in the storm drain and can’t even figure out how it got out of the house.

That’s the problem with briefs. Once they have a little wear in them and are no longer too tight, they are also no longer tight enough. Not tight enough to keep you in I mean. Because they are definitely tight enough to grab a nice healthy pinch of scrot. This doesn’t happen in boxer briefs. Even after they are so old and loose that they have transformed into full-fledged boxers. Unless you have a sack like that thing on a turkey’s beak and swinging halfway down your leg, the Pinch is not an issue.

The Pinch always happens when you’re some place that you can make an adjustment. Like at the DMV or in church. You discreetly try to free your nut from bondage. First, you swing your leg out, hoping to relieve the pressure. This lets a little more of your stuff slip out, but not enough to ease the pain. So, the you try the reverse, pressing your thigh inward, hoping to get the rabbit back in the hole. But you’d just as easily push toothpaste back into the tube–while blindfolded. Next you try to covertly stand up and try shaking the offending leg until everything falls into place. The only thing that falls is everybody’s eyes on you. “Huh? Oh, my foot fell asleep. Hehe.”

The only real way out is to just scoop your hand down in your pants like it’s Baskin Robbins and put everything back in order. Even if you manage to pull off the old “pull and release,” the you’re only fooling yourself if you think you’re out of the woods. As long as you’re wearing briefs, the Pinch is gonna get you. It’s like Freddy Kruger.

The Pinch got me yesterday driving down the interstate at 80 MPH. I couldn’t fix it without standing up, and I didn’t want to be standing on the side of the highway with my hand in my britches, so I suffered through it. It wasn’t my first Pinch, but it’s definitely going to be my last. I’m not going to suffer anymore.
I am getting rid of the offending briefs and any others that I have. They will never be an underwear option for me again. Especially in a Pinch. But, I’m not going to throw them away. That’s not good enough. (How many times have you seen the monster unearth itself in horror movies?) I’m going to send the villagers in with torches.

That’s right. I’m going to burn them. They’re all cotton, so they should go up in not time flat. I want to hear those henious things scream as they are tossed into the fire. Besides, fall started last week. The perfect time for a good bonfire.

This entry was posted on Tuesday, September 26th, 2006 at 8:35 pm and is filed under rants. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.