Today, I have no more clean briefs left. I don't know what else to do. The end is nigh; the sky is falling; doom shall befall us all.
I should have washed my briefs when I had a chance. Today, the chance has already passed. If only. Oh, if only. Those must be the two saddest words in life.
I wonder how it feels to walk around town without any underwear. I used to do that when I was a kid, but I was forced into the world of brief-wearing-adulthood when I had this very traumatic experience when I was a child. You see, my nanny accidentally jammed my little weewee into my short's zipper. I had to be taken into a hospital because my weewee's foreskin already turned blue. Added insult to injury was that my mom scolded me for not wearing any underwear. Adults don't really have clue. They don't know what it feels like to run around the street naked with your nanny trying to catch you. It is very amusing to see people react the way they do.
It was a very traumatic experience. So from that day on, I vowed to wear briefs every time to prevent my little weewee from jamming into a zipper ever again.
I wonder if it's still OK not to wear briefs now. My once little weewee is no longer little, and I might have some awkward moments if it stood on attention at the most inopportune times.