Bid Adieu to Jeggings


April 7, 2011

Me: Okay, The kids are asleep, so I’m going to take a bath now.

Pat: Sounds nice.

Me: (Gathering up fashion magazines) You wanna come and chat with me? (putting on a green facial mask) You can make fun of how I can’t move my face once my mask hardens. Seriously, I look like one of those Real Housewives. Oh, look! It’s starting to happen. If yoou want my boodie, and yoo tink I’m sexy, comon’ baby let mee knoow…

Pat: Nope. Not sexy.

Me: HEY! I KNOW! We should get a karaoke machine! We’re always talking about getting another piece of furniture for our bedroom. And we can stick it next to the pile of socks that I kick off while I’m sleeping and then never pick up. It will be fun. I can perfect my Rod Stewart rasp, while you clap like an adoring fan.

Pat: That’s a great idea, if we didn’t receive enough attention as kids growing up. I just don’t think we need that type of validation. Right? I mean, people that buy karaoke machines are people that are starving for a spotlight, and had dreams of becoming some rich, coked-out performer.

Me: …Or they just like to sing and dance.

Pat: There’s nothing you can say that would make me want to buy a karaoke machine.

Me: I can karaoke naked…?

Pat: While that sounds nice, I’ll pass.

Me: Pass on naked show tunes?! You’re crazy.



Me: Yeah, I’m fine. Why?

Pat: Because you gasped like you found out that you had a secret twin growing on your neck or something.

Me: Secret twin? What, are you watching soap operas?

Pat: No, I just watch that crap you like, Kardashians and whatnot.

Me: I looove the Kardashians. No, I don’t have a secret twin. I might have a hernia, but that’s neither here nor there. No, I was gasping because, look at this article!!

Pat: Yeah, so?

Me: It says to store your jeggins, because they are out!

Pat: Yeah, so?

Me: But I have a special attachment to the jegging.

Pat: Well it looks as though Bazaar Magazine is telling you that you need to have a special attachment to the slouchy silholette.

Me: But the jegging is like a fancy pair of strechy pants, and I LOVE STRECHY PANTS! They hold everything in place so it’s not shuffling around when I’m not looking, and they make me feel loved and warm inside, like I’m being cuddled softly.

Pat: You get all that from a pair of pants?

Me: They are that awesome.

Pat: So why do you care what a stupid magazine says? If you love jeggins so much, keep wearing them. Seems simple to me.

Me: I love talking to you.

Pat: Well that’s good.

Me: Yeah, you’re so wise, like Mr. Miyagi.

Pat: I prefer being compared to Yoda.

Me: But Mr. Miyagi is so much hotter.

Pat: Really, Mr. Miyagi? You think the old guy from The Karate Kid is hot??

Me: Well, no, not really, but between the two of them, Mr. Miyagi can definitely pull off the jegging, Yoda would just look ridiculous.

Pat: So lemme get this straight…

Me: Shhh…it doesn’t have to make sense.

Pat: But–

Me: Nope, it’s never going to make sense. Ever.


Yeah well I need pants that hold it in AND hold it up.

by Mrs. Tuna on April 7, 2011

Mr. Miyagi could pull off a Jegging, if it weren’t for the fact that he has junk. Men plus stretchy pants, plus junk, equals major icky.

Like sweatpants on a dude only 80 million times worse.

by Kelly on April 7, 2011

Both Mr. Miyagi and Yoda would strain something getting into jeggings. And I hate the slouchy look. I am not going to dress like an Olsen twin unless their money comes with it.

by Libby on April 8, 2011

Everyone wears the jegging here. They’ll probably go on wearing them, along with their euro-mullets.

by Erin Huckaby on April 12, 2011

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