Ask yourself, male readers, what type of cargo have you ever stored in the infamous mini pocket on the right side of your pantalones? Allow me to answer that: drugs, more drugs, and perhaps an ipod shuffle (if your an asshole). Too small to hold anything sizeable, the mini pocket has enabled dungaree lovers to smuggle marginal quantities of illicit narcotics into bathroom stalls for ages. Of course, Steve Jobs had to go and ruin the fun by introducing his PG, can-only-hold-1-playlist peice of sh*t shuffle. Still, orthodox drugees refuse to embrace any other use for the mini pocket outside of its classical purpose. So, next time your buddy looks at you wide-eyed, whilst his hands convulse uncontrollably, look at his mini pocket, smirk, and demand a piece of the action.
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