You Can’t Move Up if Your Pants are Falling Down

A life without secrets is boring.  Shocking, I know…but true nonetheless.  Secrets build character and adds to the intrigue of a person.  They have a way of making you wonder what someone has to hide, therefore making that someone interesting.  Secrets are good and everyone should have at least one.  In fact, the mystique of a secret often leads to great unknown possibilities. 

However such is not the case for my peeps who insist on showing their ass. 

This one goes out to all my fellas; for the love of all mankind, “Pull yo’ damn pants up!”  

Fellas, what kind of opportunities do you think will open up to you if the best selling point about yourself is the type of underwear you buy?  If there’s anything you need to share with all the rest of the world the least, it should be your damn drawers.  

Now I consider myself to be an “in” kind of guy but we’ve gone from one extreme to another.  First it was those wretched skinny jeans.  Or as I like to call them, “straight jackets for legs.”  I thought we’d never get over that phase.    And now this?!  Seriously, 85% of men wear the same underwear for at least three days, anyway, before switching to a new pair.  So what’s the point?  Why does anyone feel a need to publically showcase their dirty unmentionables?  And more importantly, what the hell is so stylish about this? 

Is it really necessary to show the entire world your Fruit of the Looms, tighty whities or skid marks?  I have but only one word to say in response to this intimate issue that translates into a big, fat T.M.I. (Too Much Information).  And I think it’s safe to speak for everyone when I say, “Ugh.”  

Real talk, ya’ll.  Stop. 

I challenge you to remember this one little thing even if you never remember anything else for the rest of your days: 

“Never trust anyone who shows their ass before they show they face.”  

This just in… “Belts are not the enemy.”  It’s time to step outside the box and give them a try. 

TIDBIT ABOUT BELTS:

In modern times, men started wearing belts in the 1920s, as trouser waists fell to a lower line.  Before the 1920s, belts served mostly a decorative purpose, and were associated with the military.  Today it is common for men to wear a belt with their trousers.

Since the mid 1990s, the practice of sagging has been popular at times among young men and boys.  This fashion trend consists of wearing the trousers very low on the hips, often exposing the underwear and buttocks of the wearer.  This urban style, which has roots tracing to prison gangs and the prohibition of belts in prison (due to their use as weapons and devices for suicide) has remained popular into the 21st century, particularly among pubescent boys. 

So it kind of pisses me off to see old men walking around with their waist hems dropped to their knee caps, or young boys who may not grow up because they’re following the stupid fashion trend of letting their pants fall down.  

What is it about the concept of belts that is so difficult to grasp?  Belts represent power.  Think of a dad whooping some sense into his bad ass kid’s ass.  Not only does a belt represent power, it represents authority, control and style

Speaking of style, a belt is one of the first three things a person looks at in order to determine a man’s character, or to someone who’s completely shallow and materialistic, it determines a man’s physical attraction. 

After all, it is often said that the necktie, the belt and the shoes make all of the man. 

I don’t know where that saying came from.  Probably some chick.  But who cares?  Whatever keeps the underwear concealed works for me.  There are just some things one man doesn’t need to know about another, and one of those some things are his drawers.

A wise man once said, “If you reveal too much, you’re left with no secrets to keep.”

The bottom line, folks, is this:  As much as most people want to pretend it isn’t true, appearance is the first thing anyone sees when it comes to making a [premature] assessment about someone.  If the first thing seen is someone’s butt, then it’s easy to assume that either that person is an ass or their ass is the most interesting thing about them.  Some might beg to differ, but whoever does is probably just as much of an ass as the asshole that shows his ass before he shows his face.

The only opportunities that are going to open up for pants-saggers are chances to lay up with some jezebel who’s trying to find a baby daddy; get arrested by policemen who are patrolling to fill their arrest quotas for the week; and being approached by drug abusers who are looking for a new contact and quick fix.  And while we’re at it, let’s consider the image it sets for adolescents who mimic the stupidities of adults who should know how to set better examples for children, but don’t.     

Luck, life and anyone who isn’t getting royalty checks from the sales of rap records and sold out venues will tell you that you can’t move up in the world if your pants keep falling down.  That’s a sure way to get screwed in the end. 

FOR YOUR INFORMATION:

Belts aren’t the only thing that keeps your pants from falling.  Scotch tape, masking tape, duct tape, and even shoe strings can serve the same purpose as belts.  Homeless men are very inventive when it comes to keeping their pants up.  Want to know why?  The answer is simple.  Because they know that 90% of any effort is getting started. 

So fellas, I implore you to keep your skid marks to yourself.  There’s too many sh*tty things going on in this world to be bombarded by the sh*t that’s happening in your pants. 

RELATED ARTICLES:  A Nation Must Rise and Ban Together: Death to Skinny Jeans!

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Quote of the week:  “Never in the history of fashion has so little material been raised so high to reveal so much that needs to be covered so badly.”

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A LETTER TO MY HATER

Dear Hater,

It’s been a long time since I’ve had a chance to say thank you.  I would like to thank you for hating on me as much as you do.  You see, by hating me, you are helping me to the better person you aren’t willing to give me credit for. 

Ordinarily I would tell you to drive your car over a cliff, however I see your life is already doomed because you have nothing better to do with yourself than to find reasons to judge my personal success.  I’ve extended my hand to help you get a little self esteem and instead of taking my help, you damned it, leaving yourself in the same sh*t creek you were in when I first met you. 

Life is good for me.  It’s better now that I am away from you.  Yet you are trying your best to make yourself a part of my life.  For your information, I have enough crap pouring out of my ass after I eat a hefty combo of tacos and pickles.  I don’t need you to stink things up any more. 

If it wasn’t for your strong desire to hold me back, I would be a no good loser just like you.  I would have no friends, just like you.  I wouldn’t be able to keep a relationship, just like you.  I’d probably be sitting in a corner pointing my gossiping finger at everyone who’s so much better than me…just like you. 

car-covered-with-bird-crapAlas I have prayed for peace and tranquility.  I also purchased a flock of trained circus pigeons to unload steaming bird droppings on your car each time you wash it.  I’ve changed my telephone number and placed a herd of wild llamas on my front porch to attack at the smell of your presence. 

I have found my place in life.  I am happy and rich in more ways than money.  And it is all because of you  – my inspiration; my muse; my personal crap bag.  My hater!

                                                                       Love always,

                                                                        Hottywood

 

P.S.

I’m sure you won’t be a hater  for all of your days…well, I’m not totally sure, but I do at least hope that your existence amounts to something more worthwhile.  Just remember that the change begins with YOU90% of any effort is getting started. 

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Quote of the week:    “Haters only hate the things that they can’t get and the people they can’t be.”