I ripped my jeans today at work, trying to fix my stapler. It was a minor occurrence, nothing too special, nothing worth talking about at Believe You Me Enterprises. Until they ripped some more. And more. It got to the point that I couldn't get up from my desk. It was very embarrassing. And just my luck - it was Thursday - no underpants day. The rip wasn't in my hoo-ha area, it was more on the side, below the pocket. I didn't want anyone to see my pale upper leg zone. I thought about using duct tape to cover it up but then people would be like, "yo whats with the duct tape on your pants?" Then I thought about sewing it when I remembered that I don't know how. I decided that holding the pants together strategically was the best option and just pretend that I had a cramp or something in my leg.
My boss called me into a meeting and I had to face the facts - I had to leave my desk and try my best to be discreet. When I stood up I tripped over my printer and ripped my pants completely. My hoo-ha area was in full view. My immediate thought was to run. My second thought was to wink at the ladies. My third thought, which I followed up on was to start dancing and pretend that I meant to do it. You know, be Mr. Cool. It didn't work. I had a rough day.
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Not sure if you have considered this, or if it is even an option, but I saw this really cool thing in a movie where you try flying around the world fast enough that time goes backward and these things never have to happen. Then again, if the things didn't happen to begin with, there's no need to prevent them from happening, rendering the for Superman's services obsolete. In this economy, the last thing we need is Superman out of work. Please reconsider the greater implications of this blog before continuing.
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