A morning with my pants

It started off as a peaceful happy day for my pants. They knew I was going to work this morning, so they hung expectantly on the hanger. I put them on. Call me crazy, but I think they were even slightly warmer than normal. They fit well. No wrinkling. They seemed happy to be on me this morning. But then, the trouble began.

I decided to be nice and start the car warming up for my wife. Little did I know this was the first in a series of steps that my pants would live to regret. While walking past the car, my dog cut me off, forcing me to swerve a little. In the midst of doing so, I brushed against the tire, leaving a tire/grease/dirt stain on the lower portion of my leg. I did not realize this until I was halfway to work.

I only realized that I had sullied my pants when I was reacting to my wife’s coffee that tipped over in the car, scalding my pants and leaving a slightly brownish stain around my knee area. At this point, I would not blame my pants if they hated me. Unfortunately, the panticide was not over.

I was sitting in my office while my pants cowered in shame underneath my desk. I decided to give us all a treat by eating a muffin with a little bit of grape jelly. What’s the worst that could happen, I thought. Apparently, it involve grape jelly falling off the muffin and landing on the crotch of my poor, beleaguered pants.

It is now just after 9 o’clock. My pants have a grey streak on the calf, a brown stain on the knee, and a dark stain on the crotch. Unfortunately, I am having lunch today at an italian restaurant. I fear rebellion from my pants, and I couldn’t blame them in the least.

And now, the Cartoon Network’s latest offering:

Sponge Mull Skunge Pants

I’m feelin’ for ya’, brother.

Last June I gave an all day presentation for 350+ professionals. During lunch, I did the balance lunchplate, hold drink, balance dessert plate thing. Hey, I did some table waiting in my day; this ain’t too tough.

I walk through a crowd of people, down a long hallway, opened a door and walked into a room with NO trouble at all. I set the drink down at the table when suddenly the dessert plate made a daring escape from my forearm and rolled down my leg. What was for dessert? Chocolate mousse What was I wearing? Tan pants There was nothing to do but play it off. A co-worker had “Shout wipes” in neat little packages, which did a great job of smearing the mousse around.

So, after lunch I get back up before 350+ professionals with this huge brown smear on the front of my pants. Of course they notice. They try not to laugh. Some even ask quietly, “What happened?” I headed it off a bit by announcing that I had been attacked by a mousse. :rolleyes:

[sub]Did I just waste my 500th post for this?[/sub]

awesome announcement spritle. attacked by a mousse, lol.

what happened at the restaurant, mullinator?

My pants made it through the restaurant unscathed. I ended up eating lasagna which is pretty low on the possible drippage/spillage/long noodle whippage charts. I also drank water, figuring it would only help if I spilled that.

My pants have now been sent off to a nice clothing detox center in Arizon so that they may rid themselves of my lack of social graces.

Pants are an un-sung hero in the war against leg damage. There is nothing pedestrian about their ability to jump into harms way to keep our knees, calves, and crotches free of life’s slings and arrows (or jellies and grease, as the case may be…) Your trousers wish only that you carry on through the day, full of unblushing pride to their sacrifice of keeping you safe and happy. Those stains are to be worn as a badge of courage. Go…, go proud pantaloons!

While I’ve never actually met your pants, it sounds like they’re very nice.

I hope the two of you can work things out.

Darn. I thought Mully was going to offer to let me spend the morning with his pants.

Sigh. You’re such a tease, Mully!

Perhaps as an act of thanks to the board, I will sign and then auction off my pants. The winner shall be determined as having sent in the most perverted and debauchery filled entry as possible regarding what they would do with my pants.

That just doesn’t quite sit right with me…

I got nuthin’.

The most perverted and debauchery filled entry as possible that I can think of is…
letting you wear them again Mully.

But… haven’t those poor pants been tortured enough?

You should both go get some textile counseling. :wink:

Um - Keep the pants if I win. k? :smiley: