Sweat pants.Last week.
Apparently I am a *key* worker (complete with a letter to get me past the Stasi check points) so I had to turn in.
I had been lazy and rather than cooking something decent I made do with pasta, steamed veggies and way too much piripiri sauce the night before, reheated in the kitchen microwave. Something about that combination disagreed with me at lunch time and general gurglings were causing me some consternation.
Come 3pm and i sacked it - and so did my lower intestine. I though i would be fine as all I had to do was saunter out in a confident manner and pop into the loo just outside our security door on the floor. Nah.
Because of the virus they were cleaning an hour early so clenching in a way that would make for a great ‘buns of steel’ routine I hurried down a floor. And again as they were still closed too.
I nearly made it. I made the well practiced manoeuvre of slotting home the bolt whilst undoing my belt with the other hand, dropping my trousers as I spun around to seat myself - but fumbled lowering my underpants at the same time as my jeans.
A beginner mistake I know but my sphincter is not to be denied - and whilst no more than a table spoon of near radioactive bum juice soiled my pants it was enough to take near a full roll of bog roll to clean my self up with. Pants were disposed of and thankfully my jeans were fine (I am of the age now where spare t-shirt, sweat pants, undies and socks are in my locker ‘just in case’).
Then went home and had a curry for dinner with a few beers. Ah well...
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Is that a euphemism for leather chaps?