P… gate

As Pringlegate rumbles on in this apartment, so I take on the words of the Bard about ‘ protesting too much ‘ .

So apparently they are not the property of you know who.. they aren’t mine though.

Neither are they my eldest’ s 15 year old boyfriend’s – way too big.

They’re not my STBE wife’s … she doesn’t wear men’s underwear ย ( or does she ? )

Theyre not Lily’s.

They’re not Amber’s.

Apparantly I might have picked them up on my recent travels? One Saturday night in Southampton then, and I come back with an extra pair of pants. As I can’t actually reach the floor myself to collect pants, it must have been someone else that snuck them into my case.

I’m definitely going to have to investigate further, I can see. ย The blindingly obvious answer is evidently completely wrong…..and I’m ever so sorry for having jumped to that conclusion.


2 thoughts on “P… gate

  1. Russ, my husband once went away on a business trip and around that time we use to get the sheets done at the launderette. I collected the newly pressed sheets a few days later.
    In the meantime our regular cleaner came, tiedied up and that was that.
    Husband came home from business trip and was alarmed to find a pair of greyish pressed boxer shorts in his pants drawer, I was equally alarmed?! He naturally thought it was very odd and the only explanation was they had ended up their by mistake and had come from the laundrettes……just saying these weird things can happen.

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