spending a little more money, on a little less knicker (and therefore a little more chafing), makes as much financial sense as opening a starbucks next to the mormon tabernacle in salt lake city.
i recently encountered a problem that plagues scores of elite athletes; a hole in my running shorts' internal liner (with the exception of the seams that hold the leg openings together). as i don't run far, or fast, enough to set the moisture wicking gusset on fire, and the last gynecologist appointment didn't indicate that my ovaries had started producing acid, i assumed that they must have become tangled up in a heating element (why not?), in the dryer-- despite the fact that they hadn't been washed/dried, but worn twice already this week (no additional ventilation had been noted during either excursion).
"come and look at what reilly (the dog) just threw up". sadly, this is a very effective way to get me to stop blog/read/text-ing and come hither. it looked like a polka dotted puke log. like my black and pink spotty knickers. except stomach acid coloured.
it would appear that the 10 minutes it takes to shower, apres-run, when my sweaty clothes sit on the floor (i wear knickers under all athletic wear, with the exception of anything swimming related), that the sweat 'n smegma buffet opens for 'all you can eat'.
my differential diagnosis is canine pica with fetishistic features, and a rule out on passive-aggressive retaliation based on the dearth of diced onion/grated courgette/chicken breasts/pot roasts dropped on the floor during mealtime food prep.