All about panties

So I got panties delivered to my job this morning.

Tres strange and inappropriate.

Men are evil... always trying to make you fit into their little mold. I don't even dig them kinda draws anymore. I'm past the whole "Sexy For No Reason" stage. My ultra lacy draws are put away for those times where I want to "feel" pretty. But in general? Shit homie... better get me them cotton boycuts over there with the picture of Happy Bunny on the crotch.

I dont know when I stopped giving a shit about panties. I remember it was so major for me to get some black draws... that said I was like grown or something. The next step was the infamous thong. All that meant was I was old enough to buy my own draws. Seems like they got gradually more provocative and less fortified. I suppose my taste in draws has made a complete 360. The lace doesn't do it for me anymore... not unless I'm wearing them strictly for purposes of securing dick action later. I could care less about a piece of string cuttin me up my ass. Nope, I'm so over lingerie.

I want wife beaters, and novelty cotton panties. Thats all I'm about now. My favorite pair of draws has Happy Bunny on the front and the words "Not Listening" on the back. How damn goofy is that? But I like that kinda shit. It makes me crack up to know that I'm being a smart ass down to my draws and no one knows it but me... an inside joke to the fullest extent. Fuck Vicky's Secrets... get me some Hello Kitty's if you're trying to wedge your way in.

Old fucko didn't get the memo. The very fact that he'd touched them damn lace draws and worse... pictured (dare I say fantasize? Naw... I might throw up) me in them before he sent them is enough to make them repulsive to me. And repulsive they are. I taped them shits back in that box and scrawled "return to sender" on the box. Wrong draws homie. You get no love with the wrong draws.