Well, it’s getting late and guess what I almost forgot to do? Where is today’s edition of “Thirty Days Of Dougie!”? Where is Day 17? Don’t worry, my little Saltines. It’s coming… Right now. I’m not going to waste any time with the small talk. We’re going to get right to business. Where is that Magic Box at? And the topics are: Saggy Pants, Allergies and Farts…
Thirty Days Of Dougie! (Day 17): Saggy Pants, Allergies and Farts…
March 8, 2017
Saggy Pants: We all see them far too often as men (and some women) walk around with their pants sagging and their rear ends hanging out. And my feelings on this are mixed. I like to see an attractive rear end on a man. Yes, I am an “ass man”. I admit it. And every so often, I’ll see a guy with his pants just barely hanging on and the ass hanging out and I smile to myself and let out a big old “YES!” deep inside in head. That’s when saggy pants are a good thing. But unfortunately, it doesn’t generally happen that way.
Most often, when you see the guy (or girl) walking into the store, just barely hanging on to keep their pants from falling to the ground and the butt hanging out, it’s not one of the butts that you might enjoy seeing. Instead, we get dirty drawers, huge asses that should belong on a baboon, and just nasty, nasty sights that no one should ever have to see. Do these little thugs and hoodlums think this makes them look sexy? Or grown? Or tough? Or macho? I’ve got news for them. It’s not working, playa! Instead of looking tough or sexy or like a thug, you look like a retarded idiot who needs to buy a damn belt.
Don’t these people know where the whole sagging pants routine came from and what it represents? It originally started in the prisons where the inmates who were looking for a little “bang bang up the butt” action would wear their pants sagging to let the other inmates know that they were in heat and ready to get pounded, in a very hardcore sense. So by imitating those inmates and wearing the sagging pants, all these little thuggies are saying to everyone is that “my ass needs some man-loving.”
Let me be the first to say that I have no objection to men making mad, passionate whoopee to other men. And if more men did it, especially the cute ones… with me, I’d be a happy camper. But is that really what the saggy-pants thugsters are looking for? If not, then they need to pull up their pants, wear a freakin’ belt, learn to speak proper english, take a shower, get a freakin’ job and quit ruining my life.
Allergies are when you’re allergic to something… (duh!) I don’t think I have any major or real allergies. I don’t like daylight or commitment, but I think they qualify as phobias more than allergies. Pollen makes me sneeze, but so does feathers tickling my nose and for the most part, with pollen (and everything else), I can take it or leave it. So do I have any allergies to speak of? I don’t think so. Next topic.
And finally, we come to farts! It’s not quite crap, but the smell can be lethal. Farts are both the most disgusting thing to encounter (especially if they sound moist) and also one of the funniest things around. Kids love farts. Guys love fart jokes. Women don’t fart. They “poot”. And now I forget where I was going with this as well. My mind is totally out of it today. I should have written this last night when I was inspired and the fart remarks / jokes were coming a mile, a second… much like bad gas after a bowl of chili, but I didn’t and now I’m sitting here just rambling because I don’t know what to say about the sound from the round mound whose owner’s can’t be found. Damn, that sounds like a Lil’ Wayne lyric, but makes more sense… lol
When two people are standing in an elevator and one of them farts, everyone knows who did it…
What a way to end it, right? But I “got ‘er done!” and that’s a good thing. Really, it is. I’m out of here for now. I’m Doug and thanks for reading. Day 18 is tomorrow and maybe, just maybe, it won’t suck. We’ll see.