All of your underwear is going missing. Your Hanes White Cotton Pocket-Front Men’s Briefs. They’re being stolen off your clothesline when you hang your laundry to dry. There’s a perv out there somewhere who digs men’s briefs. Today after you hang your laundry you’re going to wait in a bush with a shotgun so that you can kill the bastard who’s running off with your undies.
Not long after the clothes are hung, you’ll hear a rustling in the grass. A disheveled woman will sneak into the yard with a man who is not wearing anything below the waist but is carrying a pair of slacks. The woman will yank the underwear from the line and toss it to the man who will hastily pull on the underwear and then the pants which he probably stole from someone else’s yard. Jump out and corner them with your shotgun.
“Please don’t shoot,” the woman will beg. “We lost our house and all our savings thanks to that son of a bitch George Bush.”
“What do you mean by that?” you’ll ask.
“He’s a prick,” she’ll say. “And we lost everything.”
You assume it has something to do with the mortgage stuff.
“My husband has been working with a social worker to get him a new job. He’s been interviewing, but he can’t do that without underwear can he?”
You concede that interviewing without underwear on would be next to impossible.
“Please don’t hurt us, we’re just trying to feed our daughter and make enough money so she can quit her job.”
She’ll point to the street where her daughter is standing holding a sign for passing cars that reads, “Pull over and I will get in your car and sing songs while you drive to work. $2.”
“Take the underwear,” say. “Keep up the good fight.”
They’ll move to hug you but they’ll smell so you’ll hold them back with the gun again. Send them on their way and then go to Sears to price dryers.
Happy Briefs Off The Clothesline Day!
