The Case of the Man and his missing pants

I am sitting on a bench waiting. There are three strangers sharing my bench. They are reminding me a little of college; overwhelmingly smelling like bounce dryer sheets, homegrown weed and cigarettes. Imagine all three scents having a party in your nose and then you’ll likely stop using a combination of the three. Your choice.

Which reminds me, I am not a smoker but I invited my friend over to visit me this evening under the stipulation that there is a Vogue pack of menthol cigarettes to be shared. Am I being serious or I have I gone mad?

Well see, I have simply gone mad.

Today a friend suggested meeting up to enjoy some sunshine and do some catching up. The cherry on the top was that I was going to show off my coffee shop where everything happens. And I mean everything. Some days I just don’t post simply because it’s too unbelievable.

In any event I was so proud to show off how my account worked seamlessly. Trust me, showing off my account is a huge highlight in my otherwise monotonous life.

Coffee’s in hand we agreed to stroll along part of the Lakeshore path that when I am alone I simply avoid. I know there is some weird sh*t that happens along this particular portion of the path but with a walking mate it seemed reasonable that we’d be mostly safe.

Well we were anything but safe.

We happened upon a small commune and out of the commune came the event that has completely sent me into crazy land.

It was a beast I say, a mad beast. It emerged from the bushes, bearded, arms flailing, a look of crazy (I know I used this word already) on his face, wearing a light brown shirt, pant-less with his treasured hairy balls peeking out just below the shirt. They were misshapened and one was sagging slightly lower than the other.

He was yelling;

“Women are running around downtown Toronto topless, showing their titties, they are running around without shirts and bra’s – I am just exercising my right as a man, SEEEEEEE!!!! I am ALLOWED!!!! I am ALLOWED!!!!”

As he did a little dance and jiggle.

I averted my eyes but not in time to have the memory of his hairy, sweaty things hanging in our faces to be seared into my mind….forever…

To all the women who have been spotted?!?! wandering up and down Yonge street exercising their legal right to go bare chested in the mid-day heat, please stop before someone gets hurt!

I need another cigarette…

6 thoughts on “The Case of the Man and his missing pants

  1. I’m reminded of the time I visited Miami and quite by accident ended up at a nude beach there. If I had known it was a “clothing optional’ beach, I would have taken a pass on it. But when the only sign even resembling even the scantest warning only said. “Optional Beach” on it, how in the name of Daniel Webster was I to know Optional meant clothing?
    Why is it that the folks with the worst bodies have this desire to flaunt their junk in public? If I really had a hankering to see a bunch of saggy teats and balls that dragged the ground, I’d of stayed on the ranch watching the cattle! No prude here, just wonder if their Mamas know what they’re up to.


    1. I wish I knew the answer! In my particular case, the man appeared a little surprised to see us on the very public path and perhaps slightly disoriented – I have a few guesses on why he appeared confused and assume it might also be the reason his pants were missing 🙂


  2. Um … this is quite possibly the 3rd best post I’ve read … EVER. Thank goodness I live far enough way from this place so that I do not have to be witness to this mans misshapen balls. I mean, I love balls and everything, but not I can tell you, not this mans.


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