Last night I went over to boyfriend Tommy’s house. I entered his bedroom and he closed the door. On his door he had hung a blasphemous poster of that shit ass football team known as the Denver Broncos. Being a Patriot’s fan I felt it was my duty to cleanse the room of such scrutiny. I went for the door. Tommy grabbed me by the waist and lifted me on top of him onto the bed, both of us face up. But I was determined. I lunged for the ground, dragging Tommy behind me. As I am dragging my 6”1’, 175lbs boyfriend on my back I attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. I get close to the door….and now the moment of truth. I must get that poster. Tommy tightens his grip on my calves and jeans. My jeans…I now know what must be done. I quickly turn over and unbutton my jeans and begin to wriggle some more. Tommy, no longer having a firm grip on my leg, continues his attempt to defend the garbage posted to his door. As I wriggle, he grabs to my waist and slips, pulling my panties down. I persevere with my writhing out of his grasp. Tommy is left no longer holding my legs, but merely my jeans and panties. I spring to my feet and remove the treachery that was the Denver Jackasses poster from the wall and throw it into his closet. He did recover it, but not in pristine condition. There was a small tear at the bottom left corner. A small victory…but still a victory.

The moral of this story is that everything is expendable, and we must make sacrifices for the greater good. Even if it means losing our pants.