Since I'm on the topic of this past weekend's Tool concert in Edmonton I should tell you a little bit about some of the great merchandise I was able to get my grubby hands on while there. Those of you who have known me a while know that I have a fairly extensive collection of Tool t-shirts and other band merchandise. So, naturally, when there's a Tool concert in town there's also a bunch of brand new Tool merchandise to buy in town as well. I bought myself a Tool hoodie with the album cover to 10,000 Days on it, a tour t-shirt, a long sleeve tee with a giant eye on the back of it, an album by Isis, Tool's opening act for the evening, a hat, a huge Alex Grey Tool poster, and some underwear.
That's right, underwear.
When it came to be my turn at the souvenir stand I took note of a pair of shorts hanging up on display with a placard that read: "Men's Shorts/Women's Panties $20.00" Since I had yet to own a pair of Tool underwear I thought, what the hell, and bought myself a pair.
I watched the concert.
I went home.
When I got home I surveyed all my new Tool loot. And you know what? There's really no way this could be men's underwear. At first I kind of felt like a tool for having bought them in the first place. Sure, the placard said "Men's Shorts/Women's Panties" but the pair on display really didn't look like the kind of underwear I would normally wear (I am a boxers man after all) and they looked skimpy, even on display.
But then I had an idea so good that you could practically see the little metaphorical light bulb shining above my head. And it was shining bright. It must have been like a 400 watt bulb the idea was so good:
I would hold onto these "Men's Shorts/Women's Panties." Not because I'm going to wear them. I don't think they would fit. I would feel self-conscious about the label inside them reading "ClassicGirl," and I wouldn't want my testicles to swinging back and forth, separated by a narrow band of cloth like those clacker balls you would see at the psychiastrist's office. I would probably need a psychiatrist if I started to wear these things. But I will hold onto them.
Well, here's the big idea I spoke of. Basically, any woman willing to wear this underwear must be into Tool. Or it's wash-day and she has no other underwear that doesn't have the word Tool written on the crotch. But more likely than not she's into Tool. If she's into Tool then she must be my kind of woman and I would give them to her so she could wear them.
Ah, you see? It's like a thoughtful gift from a guy to his favorite girl except the favorite girl isn't even there yet.
I could meet that girl and when the time was right I could get down on one knee and pull out the little jewelry box and give it to her. She would get a tear of joy in her eye and gasp just a little. She'd open the box and find... Tool underwear! And I would propose. I'd help her slip into the underwear (and then a minute later out of the underwear, if you know what I mean) and nine months later the next generation of Tool fans gets born. Like Cinderella, but with underwear.
How's that for an idea?
You're damn right I'm a fucking genius.
I've been going around since Saturday asking all the girls first what size of underwear they wear (I get slapped a lot) and then I ask them if they like Tool (I get slapped a lot more). Maybe this idea isn't so shit-hot after all. Luckily I can wrap a few ice cubes with the engagement underwear and reduce the swelling in my face from repeated slaps.
If nothing else comes of this I suppose I could somehow write a screenplay for a porno based on this. I mean a guy going around looking for the perfect woman to fit in this underwear that he happens upon sounds like the premise for a porno movie. Now there's another great idea.
I'm a fucking genius.