This one's about underwear.

     It's been a while since I made a post.  That's because I am lazy.  Anyway, here's a new one.  I recently noticed that my girlfriend (or whatever the latest PC term is so I don't get bullied by any feminists, you all know how frail and delicate I am) got one of those underwear catalogs in the mail.  I looked through it, because I have a Y chromosome, but that wasn't the only reason.  Just most of it.  As you might expect, it was full of scantily clad models trying to look alluring.  What mystified me about the whole thing was this: we were all children once, and experienced the joys and wonders of Christmas and birthdays and so on--so since then...how the hell did the wrapping become more important than the present?