I have run out of underwear.
The great burden of freeballing rests heavily on my shoulders now. What is the world coming to, I wonder. So many pieces of underwear vanish in endless waves of human despair and sorrow. Iraq, Afghanistan, the tragic floods in Pakistan and now this.
Here I sit, in a dark corner of a room. Unbeknownst I am now to the passing of my extra underwear as I fiddle with the holes and threads on my remaining piece of undergarment.
My testicles are resting sadly on the cold floor and I am stricken by grief, with no clear view of the impending days of my doomed future.
I ask you, my fellow man, what must I do?
Will you assist me in recovering from such a tragedy, or will you leave me cold and broken?
I thank you sincerely.