Crotchology

@theo

I suspected San Angelico’s Fundoshi Mandate had become the new normal when I noticed everyone’s gradual transitioning from disposable surgical loincloths to designer ones—which has led to Ernie, Eva, Jan, and myself texting each other stupid online quiz results such as these:

Crotchology
What does your choice of loincloth say about you?

Theo—Classic Tarzan. Your crotch rag is basically a piece of leather torn from the flank of some poor, unfortunate jungle creature. You’re the down-to-Earth, no-nonsense type. Everything’s black and white with you. Neat, orderly, and oftentimes analytical to a fault, fundoshi is your way of getting in touch with your primordial side.

Ernie—Dulce & Chobani. Your fashion sense isn’t just incredible, it’s edible. The bath towel look turns you on. You’re the kind of discerning gentleman who wants to have his cake and eat it, too. A voracious party animal, your motto is, “Sleep is for the dead!” Food and drink are your besties. If it’s not edible, you’re not interested. You’re not fat, you’re big-boned.

Jan—Standard Surgical. You’re still sporting the baby-blue disposable surgical loincloth that fashion forgot the very same day the Fundoshi Mandate kicked in. You don’t care what others think. You’ve never been trendy before, and you sure as hell aren’t going to start now. Frugal to a fault, you pinch your pennies so hard there are actual calluses on your fingertips.

Eva—Milda’s of Portland. You’re a sarong kind of girl. Not much of a natural beauty, your secret weapon during the Mandate is more color with fewer clothes. For you, fundoshi is a functionality thing, but you also have a latent hedonistic streak that aches to be set free every time you see a “Go naked, save lives!” tote bag. It’s always the quiet ones.

Huh.

I open a new browser tab on my phone, tap out the URL for Milda’s.

Mini, who’d been sitting on my knee and watching me and the gang share our Crotchology results, raises a plush eyebrow and asks, “What are you doing?”

“Getting Eva a tote bag for her birthday,” I reply.

“Um…yeah. A pre-Daphne Niles Crane just called. He’d like a cut of your jib.”

Love is a little red pixel heart

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Dookie, a cheesy horror novel by Jesse Gordon

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Jesse Gordon

Geek. Writer. Supreme overlord of the SUPERMEGANET pseudoverse. Author of THE OATMEAL MAN, DOOKIE, and other such wasteful nonsense.