Sing The Praises Of Pants

Late last week, Big Dawg had an Incident. He and I were boarding the morning shuttle bus to go from our parking lot into work, and he caught his left pants pocket on an armrest.

RRRRRIIIIIPPP!

Words were spoken, to the effect of, "Gee, I'll have to throw these away when I get home tonight," and so on. But that's not what makes this story amusing. What makes it amusing is what happened Monday.

Monday, Big Dawg wore the ripped pants to work again. He explained that he had washed and folded them without remembering (or noticing) the rip. He'd dressed without noticing it. He made it all the way to work before he noticed the rip.

For wearing ripped pants to work twice, Big Dawg *almost* claims the "Funniest Pants Story I Know" title. Almost. That title belongs to Metacow. One morning long ago when we both worked for the bad place, he came to work in shorts and promptly blew out his zipper. His shorts literally would not stay up unless he was holding them. He spent the rest of the day looking like Chewbacca doing the "I need to potty" dance. It was classic.

In celebration of our favorite garment, I give you the sweet gift of song.