A Matter of Ratios

Could someone please explain to me why I continue to wear underwear with a butt? Because really, I can't understand it myself. It's as though after years of adjusting and tucking and squirming, I think that on this day, butt underwear will stay where I tell it to. That this is the day that I will wear butt underwear and forget it's there, because it will behave properly as butt underwear does on TV commercials for Victoria's Secret. At least, that is what I manage to convince myself in the morning getting dressed. Then 30 minutes later, I am firmly reminded of just how much I hate butt underwear. I don't know how it always happens; perhaps my ass is just not made to wear butt underwear. I think if I consult with a few engineer friends of mine, I could come up with a newer, more advanced butt underwear that will, indeed, cover my ass.

I realize what it is I must do: I must throw out all my butt underwear*. Yep, all of it. All the darkly colourful satins, the leopard prints, even the cotton and lycra/spandex pairs. It's just not going to work, me and butt underwear. I don't know why I try.

The women that criticize thongs and g-strings, calling them "butt floss" or what have you, are the women who have never worn a thong (at least not an appropriately sized one). You see, most thong virgins operate on what knowledge they do have of underwear — namely, butt underwear — and their experiences with such. If you take the average pair of butt underwear, and try to simulate a thong by cramming all that material up between your ass cheeks, well, then you have a whole butt's worth of underwear up your ass. The ratio of asscrack to material is thrown off. That's not comfortable, and that's not a thong. Thongs replace all that material with a more appropriate, smaller amount, thereby equalizing the ratio. Like a baseball glove that's been well worn, a thong falls comfortably into place.

Of course, there is a greater solution to the underwear dilemma. If you don't wear any underwear at all, well, then you have absolutely no risk of your underwear riding uncomfortably up your ass. Voila, problem solved.

* Tangas and boy shorts don't count. These not only manage to cover my ass, but make it look damn good in the process. Like I'd throw out anything that could make my ass look that good.