“I don’t really get wedgies.”
Being able to squeeze through tight spaces like you’re a fucking superhero.
If we were running away from a bad guy and had to squeeze through two walls in an alley, we would be really fucked.
Not getting wedgies from every piece of clothing known to man.
R.I.P. underwear, shorts, dresses, pants — all eaten by the force of our cracks.
Being able to wear things without them ripping on your gigantic bottom.
Never experiencing the true awkwardness of clothes exploding on your body in public.
“I LOOK SO FLY, OH WAIT.”