No Knickers

We have a strict NO KNICKERS policy. Knickers. No, I said K-N-I-C-K-E-R-S. Have you ever seen a pair of knickers? They’re always loud and annoying. And no matter what the color is, they are always flat and boring. This ain’t no goddamn bowling team. We can show some flair around here.

Golf knickers especially are guilty of this. Guys with their legs splayed out like that will always want to wear a little something when playing golf. What happens when your opponent walks over to tee off? They’re always talking loudly, smoking cigars. They never tip their caddies. It’s embarrassing that the country club would let them and their knickers in.

All women prefer men who wear comfortable clothes. It’s a law in Saudi Arabia. Here we’re a little more liberal in that we like comfortable clothes except for knickers.

I wouldn’t say I hate knickers but I don’t want them mixing with my khakis. There’s nothing worse than being at an open bar and seeing one guy pull on his shorts up by his belt loop. He goes right over to the bartender and says, “Let me get a Budweiser.” The bartender just rolls his eyes and says we don’t serve knickers here.

So if you want my advice, leave your knickers at home. In my neighborhood, we don’t tolerate any knickers just walking around.

This used to be such a nice neighborhood before the knickers moved in.

Of course you can’t go two seconds without hearing their obnoxious music. Mostly a blend of yodeling and really loud, operatic tenor voice singing pop hits from the 1960s. As soon as you hear the opening notes of Hey Jude, you know it’s going to take forever for him to finish his song. One time he sang it three times before they kicked him out of the movie theater.

The problem with knickers is that they tend to want to stand out from the crowd. You can tell who the real people are because of how comfortable they look. Everyone else is just trying to fit into the collective uniform.

Look at all these golfers wearing normal pants. They look normal, not like these knicker lovers.

These knicker lovers act normal. They want you to believe they’re just a bunch of fat guys who like to play golf, until they start teeing off for another par four hole. Then it becomes clear these guys aren’t normal. You don’t see normal looking people sitting on a driving range or golf cart with beer sloshing around their knickers.

It looks like the man is using his gerrymandered golf strategy, which means a slow, methodical and precise approach to every shot—all while bent forward so his rear end sticks way out in the air. Now imagine, five guys crammed together, all trying to swing but they can’t because they’re just stupid knickers.

Now before you accuse me of being discriminatory with my fashion, understand that I don’t hate golfers, I just dislike the knickers as a type of pants.