>This morning was time to face the truth: I had put off the thong trial day long enough.  I had to be a woman and strap that baby on.  Now that I have worn it a whole 2.5 hours, I admit that the thong has its advantages.  For one, I wore a pair of pants that usually shows panty lines, and the pants do look a bit better with a thong.  (Although it does not look 100% better because they are not low rise pants, and the thong, like most of my undies, is low rise.  That means I get a gut line where my fat bulges over the top of my underwear, whether I am wearing a thong or regular briefs.)  For a second opinion, I’ll pull my female co-worker aside when she gets in and ask her if she thinks that I look OK or if it is obvious that I am wearing a thong.

Surprisingly, my ass does not look as horrible as I thought it would or as it did in the g-string.  I can only surmise that the style of the thong, with it’s v-dip and low cut, actually somehow serves to make my butt look smaller.  Not sure how the physics of that works, but it’s a good thing.  It does nothing for the cellulite or assne though, so looking too closely is not a good idea.

On the other hand, the disadvantages of a thong are multiple, although not as bad as I thought they would be and not nearly as bad as the g-string was.  The first problem is the biggest: I can’t stand the string in my ass.  Like a really nasty booger that won’t come out when you blow hard, but you know it is there and it’s annoying you, I have a constant urge to pick it out.  (I know that Steph posted something a few weeks ago about how to properly get a thong wedgie out and it involved pushing it out through a complicated multi-step process, but I still feel like picking it out.)  In addition, when get the sensation that it’s time to drop the kids off at the pool, I don’t want a string tickling my asshole and making it worse.  Nope – keep the lifeline far away, please.

Second, while the back is OK, from the front I look like an obese cow.  (Not just a cow, I am saying, but an overweight cow.)  I really, really require something with more fabric to hold my gut in a bit.  The pooch that is pilling over, under, and out the sides of the thong is not attractive.  When I tried the thong on this weekend for a 5 second test, my husband matter-of-factly said that I should hope that I didn’t get hit by a car while wearing the thong.  (You know – like when your mom said not to wear holey undies “just in case” something happened and you were rushed to the emergency room?  Similar concept, although I am sure that he also does not want me to get hit by a car even when I am wearing underwear that doesn’t accentuate the guttage I’ve got going on.)

Finally, I don’t have a nice landing strip in front.  That’s good since I don’t want to encourage a mini alien invasion by proving a landing strip (see one of my earliest posts on my theory linking waxed snatch and alien invasions from October), but bad because as a result I not only look like a balloon being squeezing by a rubber band, but I look like a hairy balloon being squeezed by a rubber band.  A high cut thong really requires some lawn trimming.  Yipes.

In conclusion, it’s been a mixed start, but we’ll see what happens over the course of the day.

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