THE JO-TEL …believes some of what Nathaniel and John say, but believes England is still our sovreign

Thrill inquired about the purpose of events involving walking around in underwear. To be honest, I don’t care to proffer neat little explanations as to why such events are “productive” or “socially useful” or “makes people laugh”. I didn’t have fun because of any of those reasons. Basically this whole organized (from NY to SF, eight cities in total) coordination of people in their underwear on public transit seems like, above all, a way to meet a few random but like-minded people. Willingness to take you pants off in public is a litmus test of sorts. If you’re willing to do so, then there’s a better than average chance that it will be fun to get drunk and hang out with you.

This proved true this Saturday during the SF manifestation of the 2k8 No Pants Subway Ride (note for next year’s organizers: come up with better name), part of something called Imrpov Everywhere. Thanks to Reid for the tip. We met up at Embarcadero BART, our group including the likes of Hip E., Patsy, Trey, Natalie aka Stirling, and Reid aka Gold Bullion. We got really drunk early on, did the BART thing and then proceeded to the Irish Bank (bar) where we rode the wave a drunkenness well into the evening, as can be accomplished with the help of unbridled jubilance. The night ended with a no-bar-held dance party at the jo-tel features no shortage of pants off dancing off, endless Bud Light (bleh– but still awesomely like the commercial where all they need to do is close the fridge and open it again for another Bud Light to show up, thanks to party-goers willingness to swing down to the local grocer every 10 minutes), a wide array of sexual orientations, and a Christmas tree. Plus some chick fixed our toilet!

[pictures below, possibly NSFW]

An interstellar blast– I’m back to save the universe:

We receive instructions from a nerd:

Grace under pantsure:

Hip E. has a medical condition that physical prevents him from not sitting spread eagle. This condition really has no upside. Just ask Pliska. But don’t ask Wallach:

“So, what is your penis reading these days?”

Coming attractions: The Future

One day Gregor Samsa awoke from troubled dreams to realize there was no exit.

Cool! Opposable thumbs!

That faux chastity belt is getting PRETty frayed, Patsy.

Man in Underwear Descending Stairs by Marcel DuChonies

We invert everything our mothers told us: put your pants on; talking to strangers in white vans is not OK; etc.

-Shark