Some days, you want to break out the funny pants. The special ones that make you smile without fail every time you put them on. It might be stupid to think of them as having a certain magical quality, but there it is, that ability to make you forget about what was right for once, to make you think, “yes, today’s a day for magical pants, today’s the day.” So you put on the crazy pants, knowing that its crazy cotton material would be like the strongest of armours against the sheer brutality of the world, the world where the middle-aged lady stares at you for making such a choice. And you meet her eye and send her a thought that says “why yes lady, these are my super awesome pants, and I feel sad that you can not appreciate their princely qualities.” But the middle-aged lady looks away, pretending to be distracted by other middle-aged lady thoughts like where to buy the best non-stick cooking pans, or something of that nature. But you know she is still thinking of you and your choice of legwear, yes, the same lady who is sporting the latest fashion in middle-aged-lady-denim. Those are the days when wearing the funny pants are not just a good idea, but necessary.
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