Tuesday, December 16, 2008

Cold Pants Syndrome

From now on, I'm defining the temperature outside by how much it sucks wearing pants.

Because almost as much as I hate peeling off a pair of sweaty jeans in dead heat August (like the outter layer of an onion, where you just have to cut the damn thing right off) there might just be more misery building up when cold pants graze bare legs.

(Originally, I had this plan to plot certain points across the plane of a Cartesian coordinate system, like so:

Image Hosted by ImageShack.us
where (x,y) at the origin is equal to (not at all sucky, 68 degrees) but it was too complicated to try to look up relevant results and don't feel like being quasi-trigonometrical anymore.)

Cold pants are never a continuous torture; they usually sneak up on you after you've remained stationary in the freeze for a bit. Maybe you're crossing a street and waiting for a long traffic light. Maybe you're stealing a secret cigarette in an alley behind your office building which you never do unless you really fucking hate the color printer.

(Gaahhh, maybe I should wear a bib when I eat my lunch so I don't drop ramen noodles down my fucking cleavage. I look like a jackass, sitting here digging around. Slippery little dbags.)

(I am a parenthetical mastermind today)

But either way, you stand there, looking around and watching everyone walk waddle in their winter gear, all puffy and wrapped (man I love winter: everyone looks like a big fat present), and you slowly and slightly tilt until your pants aren't touching your legs, frozen a quarter of an inch away from your skin. It's fun, because it's like, "Ha, I'm naked under these pants." And you are, I mean, everyone is naked under their pants, but sometimes just thinking naked makes you giggle because you're very immature for your age.

So eventually it's time to walk again, and as you lift your leg to take that first step your froze-ass pants slice up your leg and you mouth a silent, fuck. Because now you're even colder than before, and you've got the icey pants to prove it.

Mongo would say I need long johns. We've discussed this, briefly via blog, and I say they're weak. But if long johns prevent cold pants syndrome, well, then why the hell not? Is it worth being a wuss all day just to thwart the menace of cold pants for a fraction of a minute?

This is obviously a decision best made while staring into the bleak, empty pockets of my wallet.

Cold pants win.



derfina said...

Two words...old pantyhose. Under the popsicle pants. Doesn't even matter if they have runs.

Mellie said...

Interesting. I've never experienced this! The hot sweaty pants, yes. But never the cold pants! Doesn't sound fun though.

Anonymous said...

So I knew there was a reason we booked a last minute pre-Christmas trip to the Keys starting Friday--Cold Pants Syndrome--oh, except you never get that here in Franklin unless you like accidentally locked yourself in the meat locker at Krogers.

Anonymous said...

You have clearly replaced being quasi-trigonometrical with being quasi-fuckin' hilarious! Rassles!
Look, I'm sending you a pair of long johns. And a long john donut. And a cup of coffee. Oh, and a horse. Let me think, I'm also sending you some lighter things to wear from the waist down during the month of August. Jeans? No. No jean-sies in August. I'm also going to send you some money. For long johns.

formerly fun said...

Tights are good too and if you plan to get nekid with someone they don't look too dorky.

BTW my word verification is mooldy's which sounds like a Wisconsin beer. Hey can you pick me up a six pack of Mooldy's?

Anonymous said...

nice half assed graph. you made me think last night about cartesian graphs - forcing me to pull information from my brain that has lain dormant since junior year trig and then you produce that crap. for shame.
ps - cold pants syndrome really does suck. i think there's a pill or something you can take for it.

Anonymous said...

Cold Pants Syndrome does, indeed, suck. Also sucky? These Pants Could Fit a Little Higher on The Waist Because My Kindeys and The Crack Of My Ass Are Suddenly Frozen Syndrome.

It's cold here.

paperback reader said...

Ramen and boobs together? This is my ideal meal.

Anonymous said...

Ppl are naked under their underpants, yeah? Not under their pants?

I'm just checking, cos i assume you guys over there wear underpants, but it's hard to tell, just from the TV shows.

~Mountain Lover~ said...

I only wear long johns when frolicking out-of-doors. Considering the fact that the ladies in my office like the temperature no less than 80F, I experience both extremes on that graph on a daily basis.

Maybe THEY should wear long johns.

Gypsy said...

I knew there was a reason I live in Florida: cold pants syndrome. It's a killer.

Rassles said...

Derf: That is a semi-excellent idea, because the cold: owned. But then, I'd be wearing panty hose: great discomfort.


Franklin: From now on, I shall drop the name of my blog in all of my comments. That and I would be jealous, but I love the cold.

Mongo: If you send me a horse, the damn thing better be alive when I open the envelope.

FF: How about I buy a twelve pack and mail you half?

MoLinder: Yeah yeah yeah. I know. Worst graph ever.

Ginny: Windy ass crack is the absolute worst. But the worstest? If that's a word? Is when you forget to zip your fly, and you have windy crotch.

Pistols: I'm trying to decide if I would look more incriminating at my desk digging into my own tits, or letting an imaginary internet friend do it.

Gully: Damn you and your frakkin' logic.

Mount: The office temperature should always be at like, sixty five. Because believe me, my coworkers would be more comfortable wearing a sweater than seeing me in my undergarments.

Gypsy: CPS should be arrested and tried for treason.

Bluestreak said...

rassles, you need to realize that all of your problems would be solved if you had a heavy, long, winter coat.