Ladies and gentlemen, I have a problem.  A sweaty problem.  NO it is not phil, the guy I keep in the closet for lonely nights and stressful days.  This sweaty problem is a self-inflicted one.  You see....I travel commando...

I have an extreme problem with this phrase, 'going commando.'  I certainly don't feel any military might, nor am I a part of any sort of company.  In fact, I think most people who 'go commando' (let's just call it gc) tend to be loners.  You want to know why?  There is only one layer of fabric between my man-cock and the world.  That's right, one layer of incredibly thin and wonderfullly sensuous fabric.  How does that make you feel?  It makes you feel disempowered, it makes you feel small.  Not because of the man-cock itself, but the fact, that at any given moment I could rub up against you and leave a sweaty debilitating mark.  It is like I have owned you after I 'went commadno' all over your back/face/leg.  Those parts of your body are no longer your own.  Female raccoons, and male wallabies will be attracted to those parts.  In all other respects you will be repulsed by all other animals because I caught you with my residual man juice when you were least expecting it.  Does this mean people who go commando are a serious problem?  YES.  YES IT DOES.  After all, as soon as there are enough of us, we'll be marking our territory with our crotch and ass sweat pretty much all the goddamn day.  There will be territory wars between me and some girl over property rights to your left buttock.  My advice...get on the bandwagon now, take your undies and place them on your head.  Do 1,000 jumping jacks.  Then go to shake someone's hand and just jam it down your pants.  I promise you won't be disappointed with their reaction. 

I'm asking everyone to be all that they can be.  So just stop wearing underwear you nerd. 

That is all.