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May 17, 2002
It never ceases to amaze me. Every damn time I go to buy myself underwear, some old lady wanders into the aisle I am in stops right next to me and stands there. I kind of feel that buying underwear is a personal thing and I don’t want anyone watching while I decide between low-rise, thong or boxer-briefs. Not that I have a problem showing off my underwear in public though. I guess it’s the ritual of it, the intimate moment of man and material. Whatever it is, “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE, I’M TRYING TO BUY SOME UNDERWEAR!!!!!”