If you ever told me years ago that I'd be posting about underwear, I'd tell you you were crazy.
Now it appears that I am.
In love with bamboo, that's what I am. I can't rip it out of those panda's mouths fast enough! this stuff is like silk, or satin, or - well - bamboo! I now officially own five pairs of bam-boodys, two bamboo shirts, two long sweaters, and my bamboo reaping is not officially over.
I'm considering the sheets; although nothing may be able to compete with my satin coverlet. But imagine if I could actually use a top sheet again without pain.
Without pain.
Bamboo - I'd eat it, smoke it, rub it on my face, make shoes out of it. I bet those pandas don't have neuropathy. Look at that panda just sitting there: fat, dumb, happy. And everyone thinks they're so cute. They travel from miles around to see new babies named Ling Ling and Sing Sing in the zoos. And what about the ones on loan from China? They're bamboo snatchers, that's what they are - all of them. They are eating up the world's natural resources when they should be put to work making bamboo bras, and bathing suits, and bam-mother-of-the-boo-bride dresses, and old lady bamboo nursing home housecoats.
They should keep ahead of the natural fabric technology, for God knows that the research community is not finding a way to stop my small fiber neuropathy.
