Alternate titles of this post include "Is that a phonebook in your
pants?" and "Talk to the pants!"
You've read about it in the Wall Street Journal, wherein it appeared as
an A-hed so popular that it appeared in _Floating Off the Page_, the
collection of A-hed columns. I've even been the unwitting recipient of
this occurance, but today I was the victim.
Today, my pants made a long distance call, and a very amused friend has
the voicemail recording to prove it.
About an hour ago, I was standing outside a movie theater (just saw the
excellent and tastefully **** "Swimming Pool") with a pair of coworkers,
talking about stuff that cannot be said in the office without people
firing other people or calling lawyers or the like. And I pulled my
phone out of my pocket to turn the ringer back on and discovered that,
using only a plastic pen, a ticket stub, and my natural endowments as
its tools, my pants had managed to defeat the keylock on the phone (a
two-consecutive button sequence) and then hold down the 6 long enough to
call a cute girl in another state on her cell. My pants then left a
barely comprehensible vmail message including just enough chatter to get
us all fired for sedition. My pants have foiled me!
In short, though I was never fully an agnostikibologist, my many quite
substantial doubts about kibology have been totally cleansed from my
mind. Devout observance of kibological ritual would've saved me from
this cruel, and as I now see inevitable, betrayal by pants.
I will be quitting my job tomorrow and will look for work where pants
are never required. But frankly, I don't know where to begin to look.
Can anyone offer me advice as to where to work sans trousers? I'm
thinking Scotland is a good place, because there's not chance at all
I'll be exposed to direct sunlight, and since I'm a redhead, I might
just fit in.
For those of you just joining kibology, whose most advanced ritual
consists of a Star Trek troll or "$20, same as in town" chanting, I
advise you that it is with the benefit of experience and retrospect that
I see that the truest path of not getting grief from cute women is to
never wear pants. Take my advice. Also, get a haircut, ya hippy!
-LAN3
Now without bifurcation!
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