The button fly on these new pants reminds me of Keira Knightley’s underbite.

Let me back up.

The recession.  HEARD OF IT?? 

Sorry.  Actually, let’s get rid of that phrase in 2010 and beyond. 
“[something very well-known].  HEARD OF IT??”  It was last decade’s
“[untrue thing stated as fact].  NOT!!”

While we’re cleaning house, let’s also stop saying “I know, right?”
after someone says an obvious thing.  And after a big meal, let’s start
saying something other than “My gut is a-bustin’!”  And I’d be happy if
I never again heard someone say, “HOW much for the breakfast sampler?” 
It’s just not funny anymore.

$7.95, guy.  It’s always been $7.95.

I started this decade by trolling for after New Year’s clothing sales. 
But the terrible economy made all the retailers reduce their holiday
supplies.  No waste means no surplus.  Which means no deals.  I need a
simple white oxford shirt in a size small, but no luck.  Everyone’s
sold out.  The new trend in men’s style this winter is wearing
too-tight, translucent fabric against darkened nipples.  How did they
get darkened?  Axe brand nipple darkener, of course.  That’s really
where they make their money.  Like razor makers selling you blades.  Or
Granville Automatic selling you typewriter ribbons.

But I settled on two pairs of button fly khakis from  I like
Gap clothes.  They’re cut well, and the stitching is so tight, it’s
like it was done by a child’s fingers.  And the button fly khakis are a
little nicer than their classic khakis, as the heavier brushed cotton
fabric drapes firmly and softly over my boner.  Also, less wrinkly.

Even though they were on sale for only $25 (and in my freakish 32×28
dimensions), I hesitated.  I don’t like button flies.  Which is weird,
because almost all my pants have button flies.  And this is in an era
that has all but embraced the zipper.

Sure, the zipper is cold and dangerous and space age, but who can deny
its convenience.  Pull the tab, and you’re loose.  Like a can of fake
plastic snakes.  Even more so if you’re talking about a screw-on zipper.

There’s even a built-in alarm. 

ZIP!  I’m peeing!

ZIP!  I’m getting undressed!

ZIP!  Everyone, look at my cock!


Not so much with the button fly.  The most famous button fly of all,
that on the classic Levi 501 shrink-to-fit jean, is downright weapons
grade.  Try unbuttoning that thing before the denim’s broken in.  It’s
like trying to catch Xena’s chakram in your mouth.  (I know, right?)

The buttons on my new pants are plastic and dull, but there’s still the
fumbling.  So much more finger gymnastics required than the simple pull
of a zipper tab.  It’s especially annoying at the urinal, when you’re
trying to shake off that last drop of pee while sneaking glimpses of
your neighbor’s cock tattoos in your peripheral vision.  You’ve already
been there too long what with your leaky penis, and he knows you’re
looking.  Fumbling with all those buttons just piles it on.  You
thought you’d be clever and only unbutton a couple.  Just enough to
slide your flaccid member through.  Cut your postproduction time in
half.  But now you’re semi-hard from those tattoos.  It’s taking you so
long to close your fly, that you look like you’re masturbating.  So you
might as well just go ahead and masturbate.  We’re all adults here,

Wrong.  Some of us are cops.  And when you’re behind that podium
telling the press how much you’re sorry for letting down your wife and
kids, your mind will keep coming back to that nagging sensation that
one of your fly buttons didn’t quite catch.  And you’ll forget to cry.


But the thing about these particular pants is that messing with the
button fly just gives my finger skin more time to appreciate the
supple, velveteen softness of the fabric.  When my thumb and forefinger
are wrapped around a flap of cotton, I can’t help but admire its
heartiness.  I check myself in the mirror to see if I missed any
buttons, and I can barely see my boner in that tailored, modern fit.

Anyway, I’m going on too long for a customer review.  Let’s
just say that the button fly on these pants is like Keira Knightley’s
underbite.  Without it, you wouldn’t appreciate the beautiful bounties
all around.