Panties and Mayonnaise

I have a friend that hates the word panties; actually I have a few. I don't get it. But don't dare talk about the Victoria's Secret Panty Raid sale! Hopefully this conversation isn't happening when you have to ask a waitress to hold the mayonnaise. Because I have another friend that hates that word too. 

By simply uttering one of these words, it's like someone has placed an ice cube down their backs. Cringing and shivering as you're told not to say that word ever again. 

I'm willing to make the sacrifice to eliminate these words from my vocabulary. After all, I have a word that I hate too. I hate the n-word. It sends chills down my spine, and I feel compelled to tell you that I hate it. Dr. Seuss would probably say it like this;

I do not like it in the street.

I do not like it in the heat. 

I also don't like to eat meat. 

Would you like me to repeat?

I guess the moral of the story is that the world would be a better place without panties, mayonnaise and the n-word.