So I'm reading through my blog rolls, toodle toodle toodle, looking and laughing, innocently playing and then, BAM.
Now, don't get me wrong, I'm a middle aged woman. I own shapewear. Hell, I own *spackle*, but I don't advertise. (Although I have a great story about Julia Talbot and a powerslip in San Antonio. Ask me about it sometime.)
But honestly, do men need this?
Can you imagine Dillon going up to Coke and handing him power panties?
Or Sonny wearing a girdle because he's poochy?
MJ: Here, Sunshine. It'll help the bullet bounce off your prodigious pooch?
Ack. The blood would fly.
(Although, I admit, I can imagine Galen wearing them. Once. Before Shane sets them on fire...)