Apparently, pants are optional-

I have great roommates. I really do. There are four of them, each unique in their own way. Because we live on Buffalo Ave., we call ourselves the Buffalo Boyz. When there is a party, the invitation usually says, "At the Buffalo Boyz". We are pretty well known...even to the police department.

We all get along very well, inspite of each of us being very different. I am the only one who is a Mormon. My roommates respect that completely and we have had many opportunities to discuss religion and the Book of Mormon. They know that I go to church each Sunday, and whenever there is a party going on, they always make sure that there are plenty of non-alcoholic drinks for me. (Also...it should be noted that since I have moved in, there hasn't been a single citation issued to anyone in our house for parties. I've been told that this is unusual.)

However, they also have their quirks. As with all guys, myself included, we aren't always the cleanest of people. We all do a decent job of cleaning up after ourselves and respecting the needs of others. However, we do have a maid that comes in on a regular basis to make sure that the place is presentable.

I write all this because one thing has been on my mind, and despite my best efforts, I can't get the image out of my head. The other day, I was walking downstairs to the kitchen, and one of my roommates struts his way down the hall with nary a pant, nor knickers to cover the bottom half of his body. He isn't a skinny fellow. Nor does he lack in hair.

Apparently, at the Buffalo Boyz, pants are optional.