At the back of the hill

Warning: If you stay here long enough you will gain weight! Grazing here strongly suggests that you are either omnivorous, or a glutton. And you might like cheese-doodles.
BTW: I'm presently searching for another person who likes cheese-doodles.
Please form a caseophilic line to the right. Thank you.

Sunday, September 22, 2013

IN WHICH I CELEBRATE THE HIGH-RISE

Either there are some amazing perverts out there, or the world is filled with strange and lonesome intellectuals. I base this surmise on the search criteria that bring people to this blog. No, not the run-of-the-mill Pakistani depravity that originates among solitary young men at three o'clock in the morning, Peshawar time -- that too yields staggering insanity; horses and blondes, for instance -- but the deep yearning for meaning, the answer to life the universe and everything (42), how mice are born (spontaneous generation), and, crucially, the difference between high cut and bikini briefs.

Which is always good.

It pulls in the inquisitive soul.

Over seventy intellectuals this week! Pilgrims!


A long time ago I wrote a post concerning that very issue. It's become sort of popular among the reading public, as my visitor numbers show.
That must be all those strange and lonesome intellectuals, who no doubt are grateful for the research I did that allows me to explain what the differences actually are.

Here's your answer.

Volume.

You can fit more into the elegant high rise item than into the minute bikini equivalent. More bang for the buck, so to speak, or more booty in the bag.

You simply get more material with the larger item.
Heck, you might even get lace-trim!

In a normally rather cold place, such as San Francisco, any extra cloth is worth its weight in gold. We're usually shivering here, ten months out of every twelve it's a bleeding bog, with frigid arctic stormwinds cutting grooves in our exposed quivery flesh.
We need more fabric!

That's why you NEVER see high rise, hipster, or bikini briefs, marching down the street. We're seriously into common-sense and comfort.
I, personally, have yet to see ANYONE wearing panties in the downtown, though I am sure that some European tourists have done so, in the mistaken assumption that this place is California.
It isn't. We're elsewhere.
Someplace cold.

Perhaps in Berkeley or Oakland they march down the street wearing bikini briefs, not here. Certainly in Santa Cruz, and even Modesto. But not in San Francisco. We'd call the health department if they did. Anybody so lightly dressed requires 72 hour observation.

In fact, I'm fairly certain that I have not seen bikini briefs in several years.
I wouldn't know what to do if I did.
Throw stones?



If you have any other intellectual questions about clothing in San Francisco, please let me know. I'm rather an expert. Perhaps we can explore the subject together. Or share a lab.



Thank you for visiting.



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