THANK GOODNESS THAT MY FISHERMAN IS COMING HOME TOMORROW.  I'M NEARLY OUT OF UNDERWEAR.  (I SHOULD TELL YOU, MY FISHERMAN LAUNDERS WHITES, AND IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT COLOR THEY ARE, THEY ALL NEED BLEACH.)  I DON'T KNOW HOW IT HAPPENED, BUT SOME HOW MY STRATIGIC PURCHASES HAVE LEFT ME SHORT.  NOW I DO HAVE A FEW RESERVES... THEY ARE THE ONES I CAN'T BOWL WITH.   THOSE ARE THE ONES THAT WHEN BOWLING THE ONLY THING HOLDING THEM UP AFTER THE APPROACH IS MY PANTS.  GOING TO THE BATHROOM JUST TO PULL UP THE UNDERWEAR IS JUST... WELL, EMBARASSING.  HEY... I NOW HAVE A CONSPIRACY THEORY.  IT COULD QUITE POSSILBY BE THAT MY FISHERMAN HAS DISCOVERED MY STRATIGIC PLAN AND HE HAS A PLAN OF HIS OWN.