Okay, so it’s been a full three years now since I first put on the Icelandic Necropants. It all started out as a New Year’s Resolution, and I thought it was a pretty good idea at the time. And you know what? It wasn’t just a good idea—it was a spectacular idea. The desiccated epidermis of the lower half of a long-deceased human man makes a bold fashion statement like no other. The necropants are also tough to beat in terms of durability and performance (the magical, money-producing scrotum being a key feature). 

My necropants have also proven to be a useful tool for getting through this godforsaken decade. It’s difficult to fixate on the deteriorating state of the world when you’ve got a pack of domesticated dogs chasing you through the neighborhood simply because you happened to walk past the local doggy daycare during lunch break and all the four-leggeds got so wound up that their human handlers lost complete control. Plus, unlike actual wages and salaries, the magic scrotum keeps up with extreme inflation, so that’s really been huge for me.

I’m also pleased to report that I achieved my two biggest personal goals of 2023: visiting the ancestral homeland of the necropants and joining Tinder. 

Iceland was remarkable and totally lived up to all of my expectations. Getting through TSA at the airport sucked though because the drug-sniffing dog went after my exposed lifeless scrotum like it was a sack of cocaine rather than a sack of money (the scrotum also caused problems when trying to clear Customs, but I won’t get into that). 

But Iceland itself was fantastic! My necropants kept my legs and ass warm and dry in the awful Icelandic winter weather. Unfortunately, I didn’t make it to the Museum of Witchcraft and Sorcery (the literal Mecca among the necropants faithful) because it’s really remote, which I hadn’t realized. I did make it to the world-renowned Phallological Museum in central Reykjavik, though. In fact, I became something of a minor celebrity there. So much so that the editor of the local Reykjavik Grapevine newspaper even considered doing a special feature on me, but then she ghosted me. I still don’t know why; at first I thought maybe it was some sort of Icelandic in-joke involving dead-man-pants and dead spirits that got lost in translation, but then I heard from several locals that ghosting prospective contributors and interview subjects is sort of her m/o. The main thing to note is that whatever the reason, it definitely was not the necropants’ fault.  

Which is important to remember when considering that my experience on Tinder back home was much more disappointing. Even though I matched with a few folks (I think most were bots or scammers) I only conversed with one person and she claimed to be an actual necromancer, which seemed very fitting to be honest. But then she deleted me after agreeing to meet for BYO drinks and a conjuring in a colonial-era graveyard after dark. Soon after that my account was deactivated due to all the complaints people had supposedly been making about my presence on the app. 

Which was total bullshit—my conduct on Tinder was impeccable! I treated everyone and every bot I encountered with utter politeness and respect. I can’t help it if my only attire includes the full frontal male nudity of an Icelander who died hundreds of years ago. In retrospect, maybe I should have gone for waist-up photos only. Live and learn, I guess, you know? 

But the point is that I did what I set out to do this past year. It was pretty basic—I went on vacation and tried online dating—but I branched out of my bubble a bit. So for this new year, I want to get creative! That’s my resolution, though I don’t even know what that exactly means just yet—I’ll have to feel it out. Maybe I’ll start learning martial arts (or at least how to wrestle the old-fashioned, Icelandic way), or try to get on Wheel of Fortune, or become one of those clowns that goes around to hospitals to try and cheer up sick children, or maybe even start a special necropants-wearing Meetup group where we do things like go to monthly artist open studio events or weekly pub trivia in our necropants or something.

The thing is, with the necropants at [i.e. on] your side (permanently), anything is possible. And in 2024, the sky will be the limit! 

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