In the late 1970s, Americans began to realize how oppressive pants were when it came not only to running in track-and-field events, but also walking down the street, standing, sitting around the house, and kneeling.
The question on everyone’s mind was how can we achieve freer movement while still covering our shameful nether regions and not being seen as an abomination in the eyes of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ?
After a few dozen lines of cocaine at 11:59pm on December 31st, 1979, the answer became clear: remove the legs. Not the legs of the person, although that is a side-effect of some hallucinogenic drugs. No, the answer was to remove the leg of the pants until the material covered the bare minimum.
This fashion trend became known as running shorts, and it really took off! These ‘shorts’ became popular amongst all sectors of society, from the proletariat to the bourgeoisie. School children, musical entertainers, and athletes all took to wearing shorts.
It was comments from athletes that led to this apparel’s refinement, as it was discovered that making them shorter and cutting a slit in the side would allow for a number of improvements:
- As a part of a gym class uniform, gym teachers would now have a reason to get up in the morning;
- The slits allowed for faster running; and
- The minimal use of material would make it difficult for young males to hide the visible signs of their frequent and often unexpected and uncalled for arousal
Shorts were one of the 1980s more racy fashion statements. But they have had much staying power, and even today people can still be witnessed wearing them, showing that they have risen to the heights of success just as quickly, easily, and poetically as they’ve risen up the butts of wearers everywhere.
Amazing!
Put on some Aviators, find yourself a whistle, and no questions will be asked, aside from, “When can you start?”
Final Score: 















Mystery, murder, and more sexual innuendo than you could even begin to care to shake a stick at… Friday nights on Fox.
ten-minutes of the show breaking the fourth-wall, pleading with the director and camera operator to stop filming. It was unorthodox and unprecedented, but audiences ate it up like Lansbury’s famous ‘New England clam chowder’ (wink, wink).
about the day into her electronic diary: “I am so tired… All the time. I wish that falling beam spilled my brains over the set… Please kill me. This job is murder,” she wrote.