Pants. Belts. Sometimes you have to accessorize with a belt.  Be it fashion or function or perhaps both. And that’s fine.  Belts have a purpose. But I don’t really like it.

It’s during the point of urination, when I don’t particularly like having a belt on. I’m the type of personality that likes to un-belt, unbutton, and unzip my pants in order to pee.  I don’t like just unzipping, cause then that means I’d have to use the porthole. The porthole – the slot in your underwear/boxer, where the penis can come out for air.  It’s just weird to me.  I feel like a pants magician if I have to go through the slot.

You know, a pants magician. It’s like pulling a rabbit from a hat. but really it’s just me digging in the porthole. Drum roll. Slight dramatic pause. Abracadabra! Penis!

So. Belt. Convenient to hold up my pants, but a bit bothersome when it comes to peeing. Just another step in the process.  Maybe that’s why I never dug overalls as a child.  The two clips on top over the shoulders was one too many clips for my little hands to deal with.