Triumphant_Loser
Libertarian Egalitarian
Perhaps you can imagine my utter and overwhelming shock when just the other day, while visiting my girlfriend's apartment while she was at work, I accidentally came across -- hidden beneath a pile of her classic-cut white cotton briefs -- a pair of radically French-cut, sinfully black, lace panties in her undies drawer!
After recovering consciousness, I fetched my KJV from the car and I was so fervently praying to our Lord and Savior by the time she returned home, that my brow and armpits were drenched with sweat.
When I told her what I had accidentally discovered in her undies drawer, she so adamantly and stubbornly denied that it could be possible for the wicked thing to be present in her drawer that I began to believe I had imagined it there.
The two of us then opened her undies drawer using a ten foot long pole with a hook to jerk the drawer open, for neither one of us wanted to be blasted with demon juices if the wicked and ugly thing was really in there in the drawer and perhaps raping and violating her classic-cuts. And it was there!
My girlfriend has assured me with her hand firmly place on the KJV, and with tears in her eyes, that she has no idea how the radioactive black lace ever came to demonically infest her undies drawer. She says they are not hers, that she would never wear such things, not even wear such things in order to frequent the bars on the nights I work the grave-yard shift. I believe her for I know her to be morally incapable of lying to Jesus.
But that leaves only one possibility - a dreadful possibility -- and a possibility I and she must now accept as fact: The Devil, Satan, Lord of the Damned, has placed those panties in her undies drawer for a purpose -- to damn us!
What should we do? Please, please tell us how we can deal with this crisis!
Take them to your local parish priest and have them blessed so that the panties may become holy. I would also tuck a rosary inside them as well so that you and your girlfriend remember that Jesus is watching you make whoopee.