Dear Evil Discussor... How come you don't write so much about pants anymore?
It's true. I haven't written about pants in a while. And that's sad.
I remember when I used to write about pants. About how much I enjoyed pants. How I loved wearing them, and buying them, and wearing them. I was a lover of the pant, I was. Any sort of pant really. As long as it had two legs and a crotch, it was good by me. (Alright, fine, mainly jeans. And preferably the low-waisted kind of jeans, so as to have a tuft of my pubes hanging over the top- ED) Such sweet days they were, those pant-loving halcyon days. And don't worry, I don't really know what halcyon means either. All I know is, pants loved me, and I, in turn, loved pants.
They were wonderful days. Days of innocence. Of wonderment. Of pants. Way back before I bit from the proverbial apple of temptation and was cast out of the Garden of Pants. Out into the world of experience. Where confusion and doubt are the name of the game. Where self-awareness and sin rule. Where there's no real reason to write about pants anymore. Where there's "more important" things to write about. Like God and cheese fries. Gum and real estate brokers. And, also, sucky fucky.
But maybe it's time. Maybe it's time I turned back the clock. And took back what is rightfully mine. Maybe it's time I pull myself back up on to that pant pedestal and just fucking rock, you know? Maybe it's time I dream the impossible dream. Maybe it's time I reach back for the unreachable. Back to a pant-loving pant-post-writing time. A time long ago, when I wouldn't dream of wasting an entire post, and an entire 48 seconds of your time, on complete nonsense and hooey, just because I had nothing to say but still felt the urge to post for some awful reason, and so, might end up writing about something like, say, how I don't write about pants anymore. Back when I had something important to say, fuck. Something important to say that just had to be heard. Something important to say about pants, dammit.
Yes. I believe it's time. I believe it's time you read some of my old mediocre posts about pants.
some of my old mediocre posts about pants
Dear Evil Discussor... How do you feel about pants?
Dear Evil Discussor... What did you do over the long weekend?
I remember when I used to write about pants. About how much I enjoyed pants. How I loved wearing them, and buying them, and wearing them. I was a lover of the pant, I was. Any sort of pant really. As long as it had two legs and a crotch, it was good by me. (Alright, fine, mainly jeans. And preferably the low-waisted kind of jeans, so as to have a tuft of my pubes hanging over the top- ED) Such sweet days they were, those pant-loving halcyon days. And don't worry, I don't really know what halcyon means either. All I know is, pants loved me, and I, in turn, loved pants.
They were wonderful days. Days of innocence. Of wonderment. Of pants. Way back before I bit from the proverbial apple of temptation and was cast out of the Garden of Pants. Out into the world of experience. Where confusion and doubt are the name of the game. Where self-awareness and sin rule. Where there's no real reason to write about pants anymore. Where there's "more important" things to write about. Like God and cheese fries. Gum and real estate brokers. And, also, sucky fucky.
But maybe it's time. Maybe it's time I turned back the clock. And took back what is rightfully mine. Maybe it's time I pull myself back up on to that pant pedestal and just fucking rock, you know? Maybe it's time I dream the impossible dream. Maybe it's time I reach back for the unreachable. Back to a pant-loving pant-post-writing time. A time long ago, when I wouldn't dream of wasting an entire post, and an entire 48 seconds of your time, on complete nonsense and hooey, just because I had nothing to say but still felt the urge to post for some awful reason, and so, might end up writing about something like, say, how I don't write about pants anymore. Back when I had something important to say, fuck. Something important to say that just had to be heard. Something important to say about pants, dammit.
Yes. I believe it's time. I believe it's time you read some of my old mediocre posts about pants.
some of my old mediocre posts about pants
Dear Evil Discussor... How do you feel about pants?
Dear Evil Discussor... What did you do over the long weekend?
posted by EVIL DISCUSSOR at 9:51 AM
4 Comments:
pants and pantyhose are the work of the devil.
i always pictured "loyal anon" as a dude...well, when i bothered to picture loyal anon he was a dude.
unless theres more than one loyal anon...like the helper santas in malls at christmas time...which, honestly,would blow my mind
Holy shit. You just freaked the fuck out of me. More than one Loyal Anon? A whole team of hardly entertaining daily comment writing dedicated douchefaces taking turns writing douchey comments each day, trying to outdo eachother with their lackluster douchiness? I just got all goose bumpy and broke into a cold sweat. And not in a good, sexy way. I'm fucking freaked. I'm going the fuck home to pull the evil covers over my evil head.
you're a disgusting deviant
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