A group of friends and I were together tonight talking about how nifty it was having been eighties kids.
The Star Wars movies had only begun to hint at what over-the-top movie merchandising was yet to become. MTV actually showed videos! Pop music was fun, and the musicians diddn’t take themselves all that seriously. Bright colored clothes were still cool. Computers were pathetic (now every single one of us depend on them for our livlihood).
One thing we all got stuck on was the words to the Underoos commercial. We remembered the parody we all sung in elementory school…
Underoos are fun to wear,
You can crap in them and they won’t tear,
Piss in them and they wont sag,
Superman, spiderman, and the fag…
Embarrasing? Yes. But I’m too tired to get a false username, and the 'net hasn’t anything new to offer…
I was a little too old for Underoos. My younger brothers wore them, though. What I can remember of the song was
Wearing Underoos is fun
And you can choose from more than one…
Actually, now that I think about it, that may have been from the girls’ Underoos commercial… IIRC they had slightly different lyrics, even in the part where they WEREN’T naming the different kinds (Superman, Spiderman, Josie and the Pussycats, etc.)
Do your boobs hang low?
Do they wobble to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot?
Can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you throw 'em oer your shoulder…
like a continental soldier?
Do your boobs hang low?
We are the children of the Eighties. We are not the first “lost generation” nor today’s lost generation; in fact, we think we know just where we stand - or are discovering it as we speak.
Drain Bead, I’m with you! I had R2D2 and I forced my Dad to get me Spiderman. Luckily, he was a bit of a feminist back then, so he, unlike my mother, thought it was a BRILLIANT idea to buy me boys’ underwear. Then again, every Christmas he’d buy me matchbox cars or toy airplanes and trucks for every Barbie-related item I got, so he might’ve just been pretending I was the son he didn’t get. It worked for me.
I wonder if that has anything to do w/ the fact that all of my friends think I’m a boy trapped in a woman’s body (and yes, I meant ‘boy,’ not ‘man’)? An ex of mine asked me what one thing I want to do before I die, and I said, “I want to drive a monster truck and crush everything in my path.” Ooops, it appears that I’m digressing…
Anyway, Underoos rocked! That was my point.
“You’re going to listen
to ME? To something I
said? Haven’t I made it
abundantly clear over the
tenure of our friendship
that I don’t know shit?”