Pansted By A Machine

Getting pantsed by a machine is a bummer. It was a toss up as to whether this post was going to be called “unintentional mooning” or “pantsed by a machine.” But in the end, “pantsed by a machine” does better justice to the indignity of this man’s predicament. Because, if you think about it, the skiers coming down the hill didn’t get mooned, they got what is known as “a free show.” Also, let’s face it, the ski lift planned this. And credit where credit is due, hats off to you, ski lift, perfectly executed. Because not only did dude’s pants come down, which would have been more than enough, his freaking UNDERWEAR came down. And not only was he basically nude, he was also UPSIDE DOWN. With machines pulling of such diabolical pranks, it’ll only be a couple of days here before robots completely take over. Small consolation unbummer: congrats guy, your butt is the best thing on the Internet today.

Lint Roller Loses Its Stickiness

When your lint roller loses its stickiness its a bummer. It’s a bummer because the sole function of a lint roller is to be sticky, so when it stops being adhesive it’s basically just taking up space in your apartment and not paying a dime in rent. The only thing you can do with those guys after they go dry is use them as microphones when you sing “Respect” in front of the mirror. Now you have to wait until your mom sends you another package to get another one (that’s the only place you can get lint rollers) unless you want to do the one where you tear off strips of duct tape and go crazy on your shirt, which, face it, is pretty barbaric.

Ripped Tights

Ripped tights is a bummer. Ripping your tights at home is not too bad, because at least you can change or pull the old clear nail polish quick fix. But ripping your tights in public is a bummer because then you have to go around all day worried that people will think you’re either an Ashlee Simpson fan or one of those really sad new generation St. Marks gutter punks who were born in 1986 but talk about how St. Marks sucks now as if they built the stage at CBGBs with their own hands. Also a bummer: Gutter punks, regardless of generation.

Losing A Button

Losing a button is a bummer. It’s a bummer because that pretty much spells Doomsday for that article of clothing. Even if you managed to keep the spare that came with it, the idea of you sitting there sewing on a button like freaking Betsy Ross is totally absurd, and frankly, not going to happen. Plus, if the button loss goes down in the middle of the day, and the victim is, say, the top button of your shirt, you have to walk around like either Rico Suave or the Whore of Babylon until it’s time to go home. And if (God forbid) the button is from your pants, you’re automatically thrust into a situation that is so potentially embarrassing, it’s possible you’ll never live it down. Puzzling sartorial bummer: losing a button does not account for why you wore a blazer with no shirt.

Between Seasons

The awkward period between seasons is a bummer. It’s a bummer because how are you supposed to know what to wear when it’s Pepsi commercial sultry out one day and butt-ass cold the next?  To compensate, you end up doing all kinds of weird combos like pairing swimming trunks with an ermine-lined cape or cutting a snow-suit off into shorts. Sartorial bummer: according to google image search, no one has ever cut a snow suit off into shorts. Get cracking, people! Also a bummer: smug babies (pictured).

Rejected By A Thrift Store

Getting rejected when you try to sell clothes back to a thrift store is a bummer. It’s a bummer because it’s impossible to not feel irrationally hurt that people don’t want to buy your beat-looking rags. Even though the clothes are probably not fit to line a mongrel’s bed, you still have a sort of loyalty to them and all the memories you had in them. Like, “good old Bart Simpson tee, you were there the day of the big game!” Plus, thrift store employees are superior jerks. Omniscient thrift snob bummer: Beacon is a creep.