I really should do laundry more often. Today I am stuck wearing a pair of underwear that is much too small. A couple of years ago, I bought a package of medium-sized cotton underwear in Cosmopolis, and it was only when I arrived back in Cityville that I realized the underwear were actually size smalls and had been packaged incorrectly. I was a medium-sized person with three pairs of small-sized underwear and also a somewhat frugal person who had a hard time throwing out anything that might be useful. Now I am thinking that it would have been in everyone's best interest if I had just gotten rid of them, because they are completely cutting into me on all sides just north of my crotch. I sure cut a stylin' figure today. Oh! Wait... a poem's coming on:

My Panties, My Hairshirt
(or Buying Discount Underwear is Not a Virtue)

I much prefer functional drawers
Made with cotton with give
and dyed black to hide age.
With panties like these I can live.

Because I tend to be cheaper,
I often buy in bulk,
but I should know better,
as I sit in tight pants and sulk.

They are two sizes way too small,
Squeezing my poor heinie.
If life worked as it should,
My sad, squashed arse would look tiny,

But it doesn't and it's grown cold.
I'm sure it's turning blue.
My two cheeks are strangled.
I might go free them in the loo.

These panties are much like the rack,
'though crush instead of stretch.
Historically, their cause
might be higher than I, this wretch.

Perhaps I should show contrition
for my frugality.
My panties, my hairshirt --
Shame is your speciality.

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"Shirt" by Carl Sandburg

I've been at it again. "It" is, of course, designing a template for a friend. It feels cozy, and she likes it, so I feel the satisfaction of a job well done once again. Welcome the new face of Saviabella!

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One Hundred Things In A List In No Apparent Order Revisited