Let me get this off my chest: Unless I am in an intimate relationship with you, I don’t want to see your underpants. I don’t care if you have a nice butt; I don’t care if your butt looks like the love child of Beyonce’ and an 80-year-cowboy. Don’t wanna see it. Don’t wanna think about. Pull your stinkin’ pants up. And ladies – I don’t wanna see your tramp stamp, either. And if your butt is the size of the Lusitania, ya don’t need one in the first place.
Modesty. Get some.