Another one bites the dust

In a tribute to my beloved '80s music and Queen ... another one bit the dust. I held a funeral today, and wait for it - my pants will not rest in peace.

Ok, so not really a funeral, but another one really did bite the dust. If I am keeping track, and subconsciously I fear that I actually am, that makes four pairs of pants that I have had to surreptitiously toss on yonder. Why? Well, I wish it was for all the right reasons - they were too big, they were out of style, I caught them on a sharp corner and ripped the ass out of them - but no, these pants have not died such a wishful death. They died because I blew them out - yeah, you got that right - they exploded on my ever expanding ass. Well, at least that's how one of the pairs went - in a blaze of non-glory. So, curious?

I went for a walk yesterday, something of my daily routine to clear my head ... listen to some Kansas and clear the cobwebs. About mid-way to my destination and turning point I noticed that my right pant leg started to ebb its way up and actually twisted a little bit so that the inseam was pointing about 45 degrees further than it should have been. I thought they just got bunched up in all the fatness that surrounds my thighs, but I should've known better. Now, I've had numerous pants go out this way, but it was always blue jeans that died in this manner - wearing the friction center so much that the fabric wore all the way through and a burn-hole emerged only to spread from front to back and all around. Blue jeans, I expect that from blue jeans -- heavy fabrics, tons of friction, its bound to happen. I didn't expect it to happen to my khaki pants, the ones I was wearing yesterday. After I reached mid-point I realized what had happened and I hoped it was just a minor tear in the fabric so that I wouldn't end up with "rug burn" on the friction part of my thigh. Oops, wrong again. By the time I got home, my leg had a nice rub burn on it from the hole in the fabric - and the hole expanded quite profusely. Boy, am I glad I had on a long shirt otherwise all those unsuspecting folks would've had quite the show yesterday.

I am so sick and tired of having my pants die like this - but at least yesterday's wasn't as embarrassing as the blue jean blow-out. Yeah, you got it. A complete and total blow-out. This happened around November and I tried to put it out of my mind, but yesterday's mishap brought it rushing back. I had a great pair of jeans that I fondly remember fitting perfectly and then getting too big for me to wear ... ah the good 'ole days. Well, I was siphoning through my clothes back in November trying to decide what to keep and what to toss, and I thought I would try on those jeans to see what pile they went into. Granted, these jeans were heavily worn in their day, so the fabric had seen a great deal of friction on the inner thighs, but I certainly wasn't expecting what happened next. I got the pants all the way on, victory!!! Damn it, wrong again. As soon as I got the button through its loop and the zipper up I moved just a little bit and it was like a bomb went off. All that built up tension in the fabric just let go at that moment and my pants exploded. The inseam was all that was left - the fabric separated itself on both sides of the inseam on BOTH legs. It was sheer craziness. The pants had a mind of their own. I didn't even bother with trying to get them off, I just had to tug and the damn things ripped off. You think I should've taken that as a sign that I let myself get to frigging fat ... um, yeah. Did I? Hell no.

In the words of Queen, another one bites the dust, and I do sincerely hope that it is the last one for quite some time.