Yesterday, hundreds of Bostonians collectively gathered for the annual tradition of stripping to your skivvies and riding the T. Normally, I would turn down an opportunity to show off my undergarments in public, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to see middle-aged moms turn their strollers away in fear that their kids might be scared for life if they saw the lightning bolt boxer shorts the idiot next to me was wearing. Then again, I don’t blame them: It’s the middle of January and these legs haven’t seen the daylight in a dog’s age. Woof. Here’s how it went down.

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