You fucking wash your fucking brand fucking new sweatpants, and the little fucking string that you tie so that they don’t fucking fall down, gets fucking pulled through the hole in the waist band.
Now you can’t fucking tie them anymore. You can’t fucking wear them. They’ll just fucking fall down.
You could spend like three fucking hours carefully trying to push the fucking string to the fucking hole which will only last until the next fucking time you fucking wash them, or you can just cut them up and use them as a fucking shammy or something.
Or, you could go out and buy a tight fucking pair of sweatpants that make your fucking legs look like sausages, and ride op your fucking ass, and outline your fucking genitals, but hey, at least they won’t fucking fall down when the string gets lost.
Or, you could just fucking throw them away and blow your fucking brains out rather than be a slave to the fucking corporate oligarpy that designs fucking sweatpants so that you can only fucking wear them once.
That’s a pretty good rant, Scylla! I am most impressed! And for a change, I’m not being sarcastic!!
I have a small child. As a result of this I have lots of safety pins. As a general rule I tend to thread a safety pin into the end of the strings, which makes it possible to retrieve the strings fairly easily once lost. And since safety pins made for babies are stainless and plastic they can be laundered safely.
You fucking wash your sorry fucking brand fucking piece of shit new sweatpants, and the fucking little fucking string that you and your monkey tie so god-damn that them ass-riders don’t fucking fall down, gets fucking pulled through the fucking hole in the fucking waist band.
Now you and your monkey can’t fucking tie them shits anymore. You and your hemorrhoids can’t fucking wear them shits. Them smelly armpits’ll just fucking fall down.
You and your monkey could spend like three fucking hours carefully trying to fuckin’ push the fucking fucking string to the fucking fucking hole which will only last until the fucking next fucking time you and your monkey fucking wash them piece of shits, or you can just cut them piece of shits up and use them shits as a goddamn fucking shammy or something.
Or, you and your hand-job could go out and buy a motherfucking tight fucking pair of sweatpants that make your sorry fucking legs look like sausages, and ride op your sorry fucking ass, and outline your sorry fucking genitals, but eat a dick, at least them queefs won’t fucking fall down when the fucking string gets lost.
Or, you could just fucking throw them shits away and blow your sorry fucking brains out rather than be a goddamn slave to the fucking fucking corporate oligarpy that designs fucking sweatpants so god-damn that you can only fucking wear them bastards once.
Hence, the name, “Safety Pins” If they are safe enough for an infant, your testes are probably in no real danger. Besides, if you have THAT much excess string, cut some of it off! If your testes, on the other hand, are that close to your waistband, I’m afraid I can’t help. In any event, it is still a great rant!!!
Safety pins are not safe enough for infants. That’s why they invented fucking Huggies, with fucking tape instead of safety pins.
Safety pins are not safe enough.
I wear my sweatpants low. If I cut the string it would fray, and there’s nothing in that area where the string hangs that I’m willing to risk getting pierced.
Scylla, you fucking nitwit! You use the safety pin for the 3.5 minutes it takes to string the fucking cord through the fucking waistband. Then you remove the fucking safety pin. Your precious fucking testicles are not at risk. If you’re that fucking worried about Big Jim & The Twins, wear a fucking athletic cup while you perform this oh-so-risky operation. Or get your fucking wife to do it while you curl up in a fucking pathetic little ball in the next room, hands cupped over your 'nads, whimpering.
I am currently wearing sweatpants with no string. Just worn-out shitty elastic. The only reason they are staying up is that I’ve gained 30 pounds since I bought them 10 years ago. The ankles are also stretched out. I should not be allowed to leave the house in these hideous faded things, but fuck you for noticing. And the horse you rode in on.
If you only washed your sweatpants on every 15th or 16th wearing, like I do, you’ll have to perform this onerous task less often, BTW. And ten years later you’ll still be wearing the fucking things.
Why can’t you just fucking tie the two ends together before you fucking put them in the laundry? Is that too fucking dangerous? No fucking sharp objects are required.
They could come untied, or your neat little bowtie could turn into a knot, or you could just fucking forget, and then, once again, you’re fucked.
The fucking point isn’t to find a fucking solution to this problem. Doubtless if I applied my intellect I could.
It’s not my fucking job though. It’s the job of the godamned fucking sweatpants manufactures to design a fucking sweatpant that doesn’t lose its fucking string so I don’t have to worry about it.
I think the confusion, er, fucking confusion here is that Cranky was fucking thinking that the fucking string came completely out of the fucking sweatpants. The you could use the fucking safety pin to thread the string through the pants. Scylla is talking about the string getting lost inside the pants. (I got too lazy to continue typing “fucking” all the time.)
::sigh:: Go down to the fabric and crafts store, and ask the nice saleslady (I’ve yet to see a man work in one of these shops) for something that will stop this. I don’t know what they’re called, but there’s little plastic thingamabobs that you can just put on the drawstrings and LEAVE them on, throughout the wash and wear cycle. And they won’t threaten your precious 'nads. I think that they sell for about a buck a pair (the thingamabobs, not the 'nads, though thingamabobs IS a good euphemism for testicles).
There. Now you can let your blood pressure return to normal.
Can’t you just fucking tie the fucking strings together before fucking putting the fucking sweatpants in the fucking washing machine? That’s what I fucking do. Fucking works all the fucking time.