If I could go ONE FUCKING DAY without seeing someone's ass crack.
I am done.
I really am.
I cannot fathom the need people have to wear pants that QUITE OBVIOUSLY don't fit and pair them with shirts that are QUITE OBVIOUSLY not long enough.
For a while, I would address the issue. I would tell someone, "Hey, you can see your butt when you stand up/sit down/ bend over/ breathe."
It never seemed to make a difference. It's like people want to be pole dancers, but just can't seem to get over that last moral hump and so think occasional flashes of ass crack is an acceptable way to get that sexytime thrill and still be able to look their daddies in the eye at family dinner.
It's not ok that I know what your ass looks like. It's really not. Partly because I'm not diapering/having sex/physically examining you, partly because I'm not paying you money to get your grind on to Pour Some Sugar On Me, and partly because I have yet to see an ass crack where I thought - TOTALLY WORTH IT.
|You know what? Not even this. Sorry, Becks, but your butt crack doesn't . . . well, maybe. Except, how creepy that you have your kid's name tattooed over your ass like a tramp stamp. Seriously. Not your best decision. Source.|
If you realize you are constantly hiking them up so that you are FULLY COVERED, then you need to either size up or start wearing mom jeans.
Actually, enlist the help of a friend, or better yet, a frenemy. You obviously can't be trusted to do this on your own.
[Obviously, I was visually assaulted by a butt crack today. I can't unsee this, people. Cut me a break.]