My Favorite Tattoo: The Knuckle Sandwich

Okay, this cracks me up.  Nothing like having a poorly drawn sandwich tattoo on the top of your hand for the rest of your life!  You gotta give this person an E for having a sense of humor.

I have a couple of tattoos myself.  They are small, and all around the ankle area – and most of them seemed like a good idea at the time.  Now?  Well, try explaining that that thing on your ankle is not the number 12 but rather your sorority letters.  The looks I get from explaining that one are priceless.  For some reason, people have a hard time believing I was a sorority girl.  Well, I was!  Anyway, there really was no need to brand that information on my ankle for the rest of my life, but what did I know?  I did a lot of dumb things back then…

Stay strong XΩ Sisters!


Image courtesy of

Seinfeld: Bubble Boy (Not Balloon Boy)

For some reason, whenever I have been talking about the Balloon Boy or his idiotic father, I keep saying ‘Bubble Boy”.  It must be a side effect of watching too much Seinfeld. So, I figured maybe it was a good time to post this little clip for the real Bubble Boy.


PS: Speaking of Balloon Boy, chalk it up to my old home state to be home to yet another nutball.  And, they live in Ft. Collins no less – home to my hapless Rams.  (And, a hapless Sheriff’s Dept, apparently.)

Inside the Mind of a Woman

Okay, I know this went around a few months ago, but I ran across it again and felt the need to post.  If you haven’t seen it, the gist is this:  A guy goes on vacation to Europe for two weeks, and his girlfriend either forgot, or didn’t understand he was leaving.  The story is told through the emails he received while he was away.

Yes, this is what goes through our minds as women, I am sorry to say.  Oh, and the video is 8 minutes long, but worth it. Welcome to our world.


Happy Anniversary to The Pants!


Well folks, it was three years ago this week that Nacho Underpants was born.  To celebrate, I will be posting links to some classic posts all this week via my Twitter page.  When I started this blog, it really was more because I wanted to be the next Perez Hilton and get to become famous for doing really nothing except sitting on a computer all day.  Then I realized that Perez Hilton is a tool.

No, I didn’t become famous (outside of getting listed in Chicago Magazine as one of 171 Best Chicago Websites in 2008), but all in all it’s been fun writing for you average of 200 people per day.  It’s been a great way to fill that inner-need to be a ham. (Or a Liver Sausage Pineapple.)

Viva La Pants!

Need to Kill a Couple of Hours?


Like I don’t have enough ways to waste time on the interwebs – along comes  Lamebook is your one-stop shopping experience for all lame Facebook posts.  I must be a voyeur deep down, because I could spend hours reading other people’s ridiculous posts – and if you add up the time I spent doing that during this week – I probably did.

A few observations:

  • Spelling in this new world is beginning to alarm me.
  • People really will post anything, no matter how mundane or personal.
  • I weep for our future.

Lamebook : From Lame to Fame.

Thanks, k.e.t!

Fired on Facebook


I ran across this gem on one of my favorite time-wasting websites, Passive-Agressive Notes. This totally cracks me up for a couple of reasons.  First, that the poster is posting from work, which seems like something you really shouldn’t be doing.  Second, that they “forgot” that their boss is one of their “friends.”  Why on earth would you make your boss your friend on Facebook?  That seems stupid on about 3 levels.  But, some of the 20-somethings have over 800 “friends” – how can you keep track?

I know someone who did something similar – but luckily figured it out before it got too far.  She was having some problems at her job and posted some giant rant about what was happening and then left it up for a couple of minutes before realizing that some of her “friends” also were co-workers. Not the person she was ranting about, but still not people that needed to see what she was thinking. Ooops.

I can’t post here about the stupid things I’ve done on FB because a lot of people from my FB read this blog as well.  Let’s just say I’ve made an ass out of myself more than once – but what it really comes down to is that there is a distinction between “real life” friends and “facebook friends” and although many do overlap, some don’t.  Just because I read your daily posts on what you had for lunch doesn’t mean I necessarily want to have lunch with you.  I guess it’s just part of the New World Order.

Passive/Aggressive Notes:

Look at these GIGANTIC Panties!


While perusing cool clothes from the early 60s à la Mad Men, I ran across this page from the 1964 Fall Sears Catalog.  WOW – those are some LARGE PANTIES.  Was this really what they were wearing under all those beautiful clothes?  GIANT HUMUNGOUS  JUMBO GARGANTUAN UNDERWEAR?  It’s such a… let down.

(I love the Days of the Week ones – like you’re three years old and need them to remember to change your ENORMOUS UNDERPANTS.)


Yes, I Had Pants Like This.


This post over at Jezebel delves head-first into the lovely fashion world of 1972 via the ubiquitous Sears Catalog.  This particular post focuses on the fashions of the children of 1972 – which would include me as I was 3 1/2 in the spring of 1972 when this catalog came out.

What the fuck were these people on, anyway?  What adult in their right mind thinks that this is mainstream America-wear?  It’s like the whole world went crazy.  I can’t decide which one is the most hideous.  Maybe the pink/blue/white/dots/stripe combo ones.

And, yes, I remember photos of me in similar if not the same pants.  I know we were big Sears shoppers.  It wasn’t my fault – I was a kid and had to wear what my obviously LSD-laden parents bought me. But, then again – look what they were wearing.