DAY 190: Rating my undies

THERE are no dirty pictures of me in existence to the best of my knowledge, unless you count that arty shoot when I was 18.

I decide to end all that today and send someone a mid-morning, up-skirt shot, sort of like a nice break for elevenses.

Unfortunately, the picture won’t send at first, so I go outside and press send about 18 times. Eventually I get the response “ha ha”, which isn’t the reaction I had envisaged at all. Perhaps the text never arrived and he’s chortling at something I said earlier.

After that, though, I’m worried that my undies have failed to cut the mustard, which is hardly fair, as if I’d known I was going to do this I would have put on some lowest common denominator ones and Bob’s your uncle.

Rattled, I decide to email the shot to ‘Rate My Pantys’ (sic) to settle this once and for all. There are lots of ‘Rate My’ sites on the internet: rate my implants / vomit / life / ex-girlfriend / ink / wedgie / pecs / parking / kitten / wee / moustache / doodle… Oh, you name it.

My finger is poised when I’m afraid I start to have doubts. I dunno. I can’t help wondering if all the pics on ‘Rate My Pantys’ are sent by real women with a burning need to know if they’re on the right track, or if it’s just a butt portal for preteens. I rate my undies sacred. Abort mission.

Keeper? I’m not convinced this experiment is bettering my personal development.