It ought to be a slam dunk success unless mothers don't tell their kids that anymore which I doubt.
I ought to be able to make a killing because when people see their loved ones hurt the impulse is to take them STRAIGHT to the hospital. They don't stop and check the person's skivvies before they head on out to the emergency room.
Picture Little Johnny. His pissed off father just told him to go out, get some exercise and go play in the rail yards. Shortly afterwards he drags himself home with his arms because his legs were crushed by a locomotive that was backing up.
Johnny's mom sees him and after she finishes giving her husband holy hell for making him play outside she stuff the little whelp into the family car and carts him off to the hospital where she knows the kid is going to be examined.
One glance at the kiosk and mom realized she forgot to make sure Johnny is wearing clean shorts. She isn't taking any chances because she knows that the doctor will work harder to try and save him because clean skids are the badge of coming from a good family.
So Johnny's mom whips out the trusty credit card and buys the kid a clean pair of drawers for 75 bucks.
Sounds like a pretty good way to make a few bucks if you ask me.
- To find out why the blog is pink just cut and paste this: http://piccoloshash.blogspot.com/2009/12/my-feminine-side-blog-stays-pink.html NO ANIMALS WERE HARMED IN THE WRITING OF TODAY'S ESSAY
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