I considered putting on a pair of discarded boxers I found, on the off chance that they'd turn out to be magical. I ultimately decided the odds of contracting some sort of venereal disease from them were marginally higher, and decided against it.
See. God just hates some people.
See. God just hates some people.
And anyway, it's not the boxers that are magical.
It's what's inside them.
Like maybe you have a magical ass and can shit money.
In which case, I will marry you.
Let me know.
I'm available.
I could really use the cash.