Underpants work, underpants play, collect underpants all day

My friend from Minneapolis took me to the history museum. I was nervous. I tend to take a Howard Zinn view of American History, which means I don’t agree with 90% of the garbage in the school textbooks, which means I usually can’t risk talking to most Americans.

But the museum visit actually started off on pretty safe territory. Well, for me it did. For a 5-year-old kid visitor, it was hell. He stood, clutching his mom’s skirt in terror, whining: “But Mommy, I don’t like underwear!” over and over again.

"Hey, Chad! After wind band practice is done, let's all take a shower together!" Hanging out in your jocks and vests with horns and stuff wasn't at all gay in the 60s.

These special new underpants may NOT be worn while applying lipstick.

Words fail me. This kind of stuff makes me very glad that photography was invented, putting thousands of mediocre commercial "artists" out of work.

And now for some light entertainment.

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