A Brief History of My Underpants

It has been a busy weekend for my underpants.

Saturday's Underpants Incident

On Friday, I received an email regarding the New York Television Festival's pitch contest, in which contestants get one minute to pitch their television show. Not that I had a television show to pitch. But I do have ... er ... Wonder Woman underpants.

So I made the call and got a spot. Saturday morning, I wrote a pitch. On the subway. I went to the Gotham Comedy Club, filled out my entry form, went downstairs to the ladies' room, came back in my Wonder Woman underpants, and got in line. The nice gentleman running things asked if I would "prefer to go sooner rather than later." I declined special treatment and waited.

I eventually pitched my talk show, a melange of mayhem in which Ann Coulter arm wrestles Scarlett Johanssen, and white supremacists are forced to confront the falseness of their beliefs in the persons of ... the Simpson sisters! Somewhere in my sixty seconds was:

Kelly Ripa, if you get a chance to hear this, I hereby challenge you to an all-out, no-holds-barred Ultimate Fighting deathmatch! In underroos ... underwater!


Regis can't protect you now!
Sunday's Underpants Incident

Today, I performed at MAX in the Park, a four-hour comedy extravaganza featuring 40 comics. And also featuring no stairs up to the stage. I did not know this when I selected the short skirt I wore today, and am still wearing now, in case you were about to ask me, all breathy-like, what I'm wearing while I blog.


Presciently, my mother always told me to wear nice underwear; you never know what will happen.

Fortunately, I was not hit by a car; instead, I made a running leap onto a stone stage in Central Park.
After I did this, likely flashing some significant portion of my undercarriage, I joked with the audience that perhaps they should just get a little puppy to pull down my underpants like on the Coppertone bottle.


Coppertone!