The winter time. It's coming people...get ready to freeze your balls...er...tits? Get ready to freeze your danglies off...we're going to be buried in fucking snow. This of course being a fact of fucking nature, I was thinking about the many ways in which mankind, in all it's ridiculous glory, hides from the cold. We do it in numerous ways. Things like fire, blankets, stacks of dead bodies, they all do wonders to both store and emit heat. One of my faves...by far, is pajamas.
Fuck that's sexy.
Pajamas come in all styles. My favorite? Nudity. Though, I am unable to pull that off due to my decrepit self esteem. Yeah, I know it's not really a pajama...but,...well...fuck you. I say it is, so it is. Eat it. Anyway, pajamas are awesome, weird, fashionable and comfortable all at the same time. You can tell a lot by what kind of pajamas a person sleeps in, like, for instance: A person wearing flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt to sleep might be cool. A person wearing pajamas with feet in them...that are meant for a 7 year old...not cool at all.
Get right the fuck out of here with that shit.
Why pajamas with feet in them became such a no-no for people, beyond puberty, to wear is beyond me. I would never choose to wear them myself. Why? My feet sweat like their in a "let's race to dehydration" competition. It's gross and sad. Don't weep for me. I do enough for both of us. Don't ask. So, pajamas with feet...fuck that. Though, back in the day, in the old west, long johns were the shit. Though, they didn't have feet in them. The poor bastards. I can only imagine how giddy they would have gotten over long johns with fucking feet in them. I mean, they thought any speed above 10 mph would rip your face off. I can just imagine the ground breaking achievement feetsie jammies might have been. They might have bagged WWI and said, "Fuck it guys...can't we just dig on these pajamas with the feet in them until Hitler starts his shit?"
His feet are exposed...so, from a historical stand point...
this is porno.
Sorry to say...that didn't happen and we were sunk into a World War...without footed pajamas. Oh cruel fate, what a wicked bitch ye be. Though, I imagine kids just got feet in them because it's cheaper to make kids pajamas like that. Smaller feet, less material. I suppose we find the feeted kind a bit "kid" like because of that. It's a bit creepy for an adult to sport them now. Alas, pajamas with feet are relegated to the realm of childhood. Thank god. My feet wouldn't stand a chance. Who knows what would have happened had things been different and the world accepted pajamas with feet as an "every man" sleep attire. Who knows. It would be a far, far less grope worthy place. Pajamas with feet are just...fucking weird. They're for kids, dammit! It would be like...Superman underwear for adults. Gah...I mean, is that sexy? Who would think that was ho-
I stand corrected. They are indeed...hot.
Awesome superhero women's sleepwear aside. The long john, non-footed sleep gear, kept generations warm and toasty, through many a winter's night. Then the world spun on with its unimpressive, non-sexy, regular pajamas...because, dammit...those generations knew what it was like to persevere...even without turning each other on. So, they went with cotton pajamas...as modeled by the ever gangly Dick Van "Where's that mother fucking ottoman at?!" Dyke.
Those jammies draw in bitches like a magnet.
So, the ugly era after WWII brought us not only a Hitler bashing, a boisterous American economy but a healthy fear of nudity too. There's nothing cool about those fucking pajamas. Shit, they have a pocket in them. What the fuck for? Are you carrying pencils and shit to bed? Maybe it's for your sex appeal, because those fucking pajamas shrink it to about that size. There's no way anything can make those pajamas sex-
Okay...maybe there's a way.
So, here we are today...we've stripped away the pajama top, because...FUCK THE SEXUALLY REPRESSED 50's! We're not frightened of our nudity...okay...a little, but, certainly not the nudity of others. Let freedom ring 50's repression! The 50's were a bunch of commies anyway. So, we kept the bottoms...and slapped a t-shirt on. Nice. Certainly not creepy. We're warm at night, comfortable and more or less safe to go out, on the front lawn, as maybe our house burns to the ground. We can console our families amid the glow of burning memories and belongings. As the fire ravages the house, we can be safe with the knowledge that neighbors...won't be able to say, "What a shame. What will they do now? Is that man wearing Superman underwear?!"