Whatsupchuck

Riddle Me This... Do it for Love...

Who Cut the Cheese? With Under-Ease underwear only the wearer will know for sure.
RIDDLE ME THIS... When is a private party not so private? When it's a party at Seaside's Sportsman's Club on Broadway. While searching for a wee drop of aqua vitae late Saturday night, I dropped by the Sportsman's only to find a sign proclaiming the place closed for a private party.

There must be a look of dejection on my face because, from out of the shadows, this guy shows up and tells me to go around to the back door. A brief discussion ensues, and he tells me that if I have $20 to spare, I'm invited to the party. Even better, he says, "The girls are already on their way."

At this point, I have two confessions. First, I was titillated. I've long wondered about the lack of strip joints in the area and thought maybe I had stumbled onto an underground scene. These things happen. Second, I was strapped for cash. If I bought my way into the party, I wouldn't have money for drinking. Keeping my priorities straight, I moved on.

Still, I had to know what the deal was. So on Monday I spoke to Michelle Kaan, the Sportsman's owner. Turns out the gig I missed was the first half of a double-header celebrating the upcoming nuptials between Willy and Shannon, longtime friends of Kaan and patrons of the club. Saturday's "private" party was Willy's bachelor party, and it was followed on Sunday by Shannon's bachelorette fête.

According to Kaan, it was a one-time gig, and "It will probably not happen again."

Damn.

DO IT FOR LOVE... Everyone who is in an intimate relationship should take note. At some point, you will be (and probably already have been) either the victim or the perpetrator of a foul-smelling crime against your partner. Don't play coy. You know what I'm talking about. While the occasional noxious emission may be forgivable, for some people--due to lousy diet or gastrointestinal problems--it's a relationship-threatening way of life.

But now there's hope, thanks to Colorado inventor Buck Weimer.

Earlier this year, Weimer began marketing Under-Ease, "A New Generation of Protective Underwear for Flatulence."

The undies themselves, in both men's and women's styles, are an air-tight polyurethane-coated nylon weave. A strategically located pocket holds a multi-layered filter which contains "among other things, two layers of Australian sheep's wool and a layer of activated carbon." An "exit hole" allows the purified flatulence to harmlessly waft away from the wearer before the air-tight panties blow-up like a hot-air balloon.

Users are warned, however, that while the underwear can be worn in most social settings, they are not suitable for "bathing, swimming, hot tubs or other water-related activities." Of course not. There would be no way to hide the bubbles.

Under-Ease may be purchased ($24.95 for one set of underwear with pad; $9.95 for two replacement pads) online at www.Under-Tec.com or by calling 1-888-433-5913. Do it for someone you love.

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