Undies. They lie there in the drawer, limp and kind of forlorn. Then you put them on, look in the mirror and think, "Gee, I should've bought a bigger size." And if you're really vulnerable you think, "Gee, I ought to eat right and exercise."
Unless your name is David Beckham, of course. Then you thing, "Gee, I wonder if Armani would pay me to wear their undies and strut my stuff in front of the camera, so that they can put the pictures on forty-foot-tall posters on the side of sky scrapers...?"
And the answer to this canny question is, "Gee, I guess Armani would! And did." Like so:
Woah. I'll just bet there were some traffic jams and fender benders on that block! The city traffic police were probably the ones responsible for the graffiti that wrecked the whole thing the next day, so they had to take it down ... just kidding, guys. I think.
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