Gallagher here. My turn to empty my thoughts. This was just unbelievable this was.. Having invested in the latest in underwear technology, these were sweet baby, really smooth, and they actually did keep your crotch area rather airy. Niiiice. They were in fact the brand new Calvin Klein microfibre ones, in jet black. The fit was perfect. Everytime the ‘Energie’ jeans were dropped, and Tuva (my girlfriend at the time) caught a glimpse of them, I knew that my £26.99 had been well spent down at Selfridges of Oxford Street. After doing a washing load one Saturday, I started hanging my clothes throughout the flat on any heater I could get my hands on. All was well until I returned to find that my pride and joy were missing! Yepp, the gangsta-nigga-in-da-house boxers were gone. Then, a couple of days later, smelLee comes strolling down in what appears to be my CK’s!!! I could not believe it. The bast**d! He denied it all and I never saw them again. So rather than siting here in airconditioned underwear, I have to make do with heat-insulating cheap ‘Next’ ones – increasing the risk of testicular cancer, and reducing my sperm count! Unbelieveble. Lee, you stink! Wash your feet!
