Yes, these are The Comfy Underpants. Like men's underwear they come in only 2 colours: black & white. No pink, baby blue or candy stripes. Black & white, that's it.
The other day I was at my physiotherapist - my wonderful, fabulous physiotherapist who is absolutely the best ever. "Strip down to your undies this time I think" she says...and then we did the usual conversational dance: "Ha ha, I wonder what underwear I put on this morning ha ha". Of course I know what underpants I put on this morning. I might not recall which colour, but I am never wearing any other kind of underpants ever again until they stop making these ones, at which point I might stage a one woman riot. Or start going commando. Given what's to follow, let's not go there.
I climb up on the physio table & turn on my side as I'm directed by my awesome physiotherapist. And casually I say "Oh, that's right, I blogged about these undies the other day" *I just said what???*. "You what...?" says the brilliant physiotherapist. "Blogged. Blogged about my undies, I write a blog, just stuff..." mumbled before quickly trailing off.
In case you missed it, here's an example of a conversation never to have with your physiotherapist. Not ever. It's weird. No good can come of it. I'd go so far as to say it's an example of a conversation to have with no-one. Blogging about underpants is weird. Talking about blogging about underpants is freaky & people will think you are some sort of, well, freak.
"So do people read your blog?"
"Well, my mum does ha ha..." (weakly) "some other people..." Change the subject!!!
We did change the subject, but still it lingered around the topic of underwear..."yes, they do look a bit like the ones...(insert some All Black's name here)...advertises on the television".
Next conversation never to have, especially when you're trying to get out of an awkward conversation already: "Um, who? No, I haven't seen it. I don't watch television". "During the world cup?". "Um, sure, I watched a bit".
Lies, all lies! I watched the haka, then I went to bed & listened on the transistor radio. For the semi final & final we recorded it & before we had any contact with the outside world the following day we watched it. I don't watch live telly & I watch virtually no recorded telly, except at the moment we're recording "Whose line is it anyway?" because it is tummy hurtingly funny.
After admitting that while you have a television you don't actually watch television, there isn't a lot to say. It's already clear that you are at least "odd". That's if it wasn't already made completely clear by the fact that you wrote about your underpants & that you talked about writing about your underpants.
Just to cement the image I thought the best way to tie it all up was to blog about having a conversation about blogging about underpants. It really can't go any further than that. Can it?
