Communists Hate My Pants

I bought some new pants and I'm a little worried about how exciting I find that.


They're really nice pants which I got on sale, so they're way nicer than I'm used to. Like they're all soft and they never wrinkle, so every day I'm feeling lazy and don't want to iron, or I roll out of bed late and run out the door, I just say, "It's okay, I'll just dress in my fancy pants." Awesome.

Here's how you can tell these pants are too fancy, though: they have four ways of closing.

Four.

There's an inner button, a clasp, an outer button, and the zipper. These are, by far, the most secure pants I've ever owned that didn't put my penis on cock-down with a button fly.

Four? I mean four?? Time was a man was lucky to have a string to hold them up, and now I have pants with a quartet of closures. It's decadent, ostentatious, opulent.

Communists would fucking hate my pants.

On Infusions

I'm getting a little tired of hearing about "[x]-infused [y]s!"

It's the same problem we had with apples and cranberries worming their way into already perfectly good desserts and fruit juices. We don't need anything infused into out food or drinks. They're already pretty damned tasty. I mean, I guess if it's to make them tastier, but that's not the road we've been going lately.

Lately we've enjoyed infusing things that should not be.

Mike "The Situation" Sorentino became the spokesman for Devotion Vodka, the only brand of vodka to be infused with protein supplements so you don't load up on just carbs from all that boozing. In fairness, each shot has something like a gram of protein in it, so you'd only need to do about 20 shots to match a single protein shake. Margaritas anyone?

Oh, but hold the phone. Why don't we just throw the baby out with the bathwater and make a fuzzy navel?

That's right, now with your protein-rich booze-ahol, you can have booze-infused whipped cream. I guess the idea is to make sure that if you simply have to drink a woman's drink, it'll still get you pretty smashed. (Which is actually true of any colorful cocktail. There's a reason you buy a girl a pretty drink that doesn't taste like alcohol; no man has ever gotten a woman drunk enough to bone with the line, "I'll have a Sam Adams, and a Natty Lite for the lady." [Alright, maybe in Wisconsin.])

Honestly, I'd be down to try the sugar-carb-protein nightmare that'd be a Devotion creamcicle martini. If only to say I died doing something more ridiculous than Four Loko.