you pissed your pants?

You're quite right, I am bloody pissed at my pants.

Now I know what you're thinking, what could a pair of pants have done to me to get me so riled up. And to be bluntly honest, I don't think I can really go into detail here and say, this being a family show and all. But suffice it to say, they have me all worked up and I am about ready to pull them down and throw them into the trash.

What's stopping me, you ask? Well, besides the fact that I'd be pantless (Welcome again those of you joining us from various search engines. Glad to have you again. I hope that your search for "pantless men" has once again brought you to a web page that suits your interests. Do come again!) and that it probably wouldn't be appropriate for everyone to see my underoos. But even if this were some saucy european television show, and it were alright for me to prance around pantless, don't you think that merely throwing the pants in the trash would be letting them off easy?

I hear a few voices from the audience suggesting I cut them up into tiny strips. One of you thinks I should give them to a rather large blind man and watch as they are shredded as he tries to put them on. But what none of my studio audience realizes is that these pants are pants of national security, and I can't do any such thing with them.

What, do you ask, would make a pair of pants a matter of national security? Well, they aren't exactly a matter of national security, to be exact, they are "pants of national security." Now, that may seem like a split of the grammatical hairs, but it is a distinct distinction. If the pants were a "matter of national security" then they would be stamped with a "confidential" stamp and would be seen on a "need to know" basis. That would be quite inconveniant on a day to day basis as most people don't have the security clearance to able to see my pants, and thus I would appear pantless all the time.

Now before some of you try and raise distinct advantages to appearing pantless on a regular basis, let's get back to the distinction I was talking about before. (Some people may say that television audiences have short attention spans, but I am one to argue that the attention spans of web writers is even shorter).

Pants of national security are a feature of archaic political history which goes back to the time of George Washington. It seems that a lingering debate amongst the Founding Fathers continued even after the ratification of the Constitution and the election of the first President. It seems, that in the concessions made between the Federal government and the States, that a lot of really petty (and really silly) by products came out of the Constitutional Conventions, not all of which have found space in history books or in stories passed from generation to generation.

One of these by-products was the ordination of a special pair of trousers, worn by James Madison at the time, which took on special priviledges and responsibilites. The actual events around the creation of the Pants of National Security are still a little cloudy, but it seems that a large and particularly loud argument broke out about a particular piece of language used in the Constitution. Jefferson and several others, apparently, were saying it was important to say it one way, while Franklin and a few others were claiming it was best done another.

This wasn't the first argument of its kind to break out, and many of these other arguments spawned weird by products of their own (like the Middle Finger of Diplomatic Immunity and the Ass of Judicial Wisdom). But by some weird quirk of fate, this is the only one known to still exist, the others having to do specifically with body parts, and of course those crazy old guys are long dead.

So how did these pants become special and how did I end up with them, you're asking. Well, I am getting to it, just give me some time.

I ended up with these pants by a weird twist of fate, when one day I was about to walk into a Target to buy some pants when a guy came up to me in the parking lot and asked if I wanted to buy a pair of pants. Now, most of you wouldn't think twice, and walk right past the man and on into the store, but me, I was lazy that day, and anything to save me from walking the rest of the way to and into the store was a blessing. So I agreed and gave the man some money and he handed me the pants. Before he let go of them, he cautioned me, saying these weren't just ordinary pants.

I didn't think twice about it, figuring just like watch salesman say that it's a real Rolex, he was just trying to make me think I had scored some Pravda pants or something fancy like that. It wasn't until a couple years later when I was buying a large fountain Coke in a conveniance store outside of Kalamazoo, MI when I learned the truth about how special they were.

It seems, or so the little pamphlet I wrote away for based on an ad I found in the back of "Pant Collector" magazine said, that the Pants of National Security came out of a particularly fierce argument which James Madison apparently was just not in the mood to loose. His voice rose so loud and the anger was making his eyes glaze over when Jefferson once again demanded that a particular phrase be worded in his way. Madison was rumored to blurt out, apparently in outright mockery, that "if its to be worded in that language you suggest, then these pants I wear shall be declared Pants of National Security and from this point forward, all who wear them shall be given diplomatic immunity when asking any member of state to 'Kiss My Ass'."

Apparently the satirical (and angry) tone was lost on Jefferson and the other Founding Fathers, and the phrase was in fact worded in the manner that Jefferson had insisted. And while Madison later was brought up on charges of treason, he was let go and was forever exempt from any reprecussions when he continually greeted any Founding Father or other head of state by saying "Kiss My Ass!"