Recently, I lost a close friend. This friend had been with me for many years, had traveled around the world with me, and always made me feel good. I’m talking about my favorite pair of Serfontaine jeans. These were the jeans I could wear with anything, could rock if I’d gained ten pounds, and had carried me through many walks of shame. Cause of death? Crotch blowout. This had nothing to do with the walks of shame; I just wore them too much. It got to the point where I couldn’t bend over and had to take tiny steps to prevent further ripping and now they are folded in my mausoleum so I can longingly stare and pay my respects.