I did something last week, and I've been ashamed ever since. It has been preying on my mind. It was one of those impulsive, spontaneous things--you know, the sort of thing you just sort of *DO* without thinking, and then when you do think the enormity of it all slowly dawns on you.

Unlike my usual stammery attempts to find someone or something else to blame, I must take full responsibility here. It is yet another illustration of Mojo's storied laziness, this time carried to such an extreme I must now suffer the consequences in a very real and humiliating fashion.

What did Mojo do, that is so very dreadful? Don't push me, man! I'll tell you. But in my own time. This is not the sort of thing one can just blurt out. Or can I? Let's try it, and see what happens:

I bought a package of underwear at Costco.

I don't know why I did it. All I know is, I was heading for the checkout after buying giant sacks of dog food, and among the big display of tube socks I saw a display of women's bikini underwear. And I thought to myself, land sakes alive, what sort of pathetic human being would stoop so low as to buy their underwear at Costco? I mean, there's just some things people should never, ever do if they want to maintain that last tiny shred of dignity. Mojo does not see standing up in a group and saying "I buy my underwear at Costco" as any sort of thing to be proud of. Mojo likes bargains and saving money as much as the next person, but you might as well raise your infant child on Big Macs if you've decided to save a few bucks and buy your underwear at Costco.

So I'm at Costco, heading for the door, and I see the underwear on display, and I think to myself, aw, geez, I have to make YET ANOTHER STOP at a lingerie store and buy myself some underwear. And that is when Satan poofed on my shoulder in a little puff of smoke and giggled, "Why make that extra trip, Mojo? Why not just get it here? You'll save gas and time. You will be Helping Mother Earth by combining errands."

"But Satan," Mojo responded to her shoulder. "It's going to be crappy, awful underwear. It's going to fall apart in no time. It's going to feel gross against my skin and it's probably some sort of Special Cheap Underwear that will cause me innumerable UTIs. I should just take the extra trip and spend the extra money and get good, NICE underwear instead of Costco underwear."

"Who's gonna know?" whispered Satan. "How bad can it possibly be? And look how incredibly CHEAP it is! You've been needing new underwear, and here is this display--you know what this is? It's DESTINY, that's what it is! And if it's not, hey, it's only ten bucks."

So I bought it. And instantly regretted it. Took it home, got it out of the plastic container, and sure enough, it's the cheapest, awfullest stuff I have ever seen in a lonnnng time.

We hope that Mojo has learned her lesson, finally, and won't be listening to Satan anymore. But who am I kidding. She's an idiot.

Mojo