I Love My Jorts

This afternoon I ditched work with my boss and coworkers for a little team building at Lucky Strike in D.C. (NOTE: AP style dictates that you have to say D.C. not DC so I oblige. DC is the postal code.) Nothing like a little bowling to bring the group together. I bowled two decent games, nearly breaking 100 on the second. Came so close. Guess the Wii bowling isn't helping out as much as I'd hoped. Snacks topped off the event with the highlights being chicken bites coated in ranch dressing and deep friend mac 'n cheese.

This morning while getting dressed for work I decided that jorts were the order of the day. Jorts, a combination of the word jean and the word shorts, are jean shorts. I find my jorts to be very comfortable. In fact, most of the weekend I wear my jorts. More rugged that khaki shorts, they are easy to clean and never stain. Jorts rule.

Every well heeled woman I passed on the way to my office read me top to bottom, a scowl appearing on the face as their eyes landed on the jorts. An endless source of amusement for me today was harassing my coworker Zoey, who is not a jorts believer. Poor Zoey. (Lee appreciates the glory that are the jorts. Lee's not a hater.)

While surfing around looking for pictures of people in jorts, I came across the following of football players from the University of Florida. Real men wear jorts, my friends. And jorts with Birkenstock-type sandals on top of that!

I proudly wore my jorts all day. During lunch someone put a PostIt note on my back that said, "Ask me about my jorts!" I quickly discovered it and taped it to my chest. So go ahead. Ask me about my jorts.