“Yeah, I went in there and there was these two Mexican guys with their britches hanging down ’round their knees. You know. Underwear stickin’ out, the dumb asses. And one of them was bragging to the other one. In Spanish this is,” he added. No one ever realizes the soldier speaks Spanish.

“What were they saying?”

“Oh, I don’t know. One of them had some weight in his hand and he was bragging. He was boasting, something like four pounds this. He had four pounds of something.” (swearing below the break)

“What did you say?”

“I said… this is in Spanish, they didn’t know I could understand what they were saying. I said, looks like you’ve got four pounds of shit in your britches to me!” he said with a huge grin. I roared.

“Oh my God! What did they say?”

“Nothing. You old man or something like that. Dumb asses. They look stupid with their pants like that, I figure someone ought to tell them…”

One week later.

“Saw those 2 Mexican guys again, the young ones.”

“Yeah, did you say anything?”

“Of course,” he said with a wide smile. “I said, I see you two still have your pants full of shit. I don’t know why you do it - won’t catch me walkin’ around wearing shit-filled pants.”

I snorted. “Sounds like they like you.”

‘Well yeah. What’s not like about me, my pants aren’t the ones full of shit.”

“I see. Well you’re probably doing them a favor,” I said. “One day they may wake up and say that old man is right.”

“Yeah, maybe. Let’s hope so because I can’t stand to look at some motherfuckers underpants - drives me right up a wall. How they think anyone is going to respect them walking around with a load of crap in their pants is beyond me.”