It’s always amused me that there is this bizarre (to me) subculture that is militantly anti-shorts. It’s always someone from like Scotland or New Hampshire. My dude, I’m not wearing pants in Florida from April to October unless I have a funeral, wedding (maybe!), court appearance, or in-person business event. And I’m only wearing socks if God appears and instructs me to do so in person–which, given I am entirely unreligious, isn’t much of a risk.
Actually, more context: my Floridian spouse is weirded out that I wear shorts in the cold, but I picked that up in a cold climate on a farm: my legs don’t get cold, and wearing pants to throw hay at cows doesn’t really check out.
It’s always amused me that there is this bizarre (to me) subculture that is militantly anti-shorts. It’s always someone from like Scotland or New Hampshire. My dude, I’m not wearing pants in Florida from April to October unless I have a funeral, wedding (maybe!), court appearance, or in-person business event. And I’m only wearing socks if God appears and instructs me to do so in person–which, given I am entirely unreligious, isn’t much of a risk.
Actually, more context: my Floridian spouse is weirded out that I wear shorts in the cold, but I picked that up in a cold climate on a farm: my legs don’t get cold, and wearing pants to throw hay at cows doesn’t really check out.
Today is the first I’ve ever heard of anti shorts. The world is weird, man.