Pants the whole pants, and nothing butt the pants

Being of sound mind and body - granted this is negotiable - at least for the purpose of this exercise, That I find myself confessing, to having reached a period of my life, where I seem to have collected a series of social scenarios, that are guaranteed to get my gander up, a number of pet peeves, a short list of annoyances, - to which I refer to as my " gripes of war."

Religious intolerance, censorship, animal cruelty, car insurance evaders, political correctness, solicitors, ageism and then on lesser charges....bad customer service, car rage, white van drivers, the french ( more a national pastime ) and young offenders.
For the nature of this discourse, it is to this last category - which has the most significant amount of entries on my "gripe" sheet - that I feel compelled to bring to "justice", or at the very least make them accountable for their actions, in the form of ridiculing without prejudice - on this occasion.
.In particular, the male of the species, these serial perpetrators who consistently carry out GROSS miscarriages of social etiquette. They semi-walk, well more of a degenerating swagger, along - their crotch, seemingly relocated somewhere around their knee area - with their gravity defying jeans, that suspend disbelief and practicality---and then to add insult to personal injury, they insist on exposing their bloomin' kaks !
As if this act of social defiance, gives them some sort of street cred, instead of seeing the colour of their money, we're left with just seeing the colour of their laundry. To make matters even worse, there appears to be a different levels of "coolness" attached to these fashion victims of public, posterior display. It started out as just whities as the preferred colour of undies -probably inspired by the Beckham effect - but has since collapsed into a free for all between blue versus grey, I suspect though, their choices are more simply based on whatever pair their mother has recently washed for them. I have also noted -un-voluntarily - that there is a movement towards reducing the space - even more - between hipbone and kneebone, or more succinct if you will, more pants less cover.
A friend of mine had recently informed me that this action owes much of it's origins to the penal system. Where prisoners would convey their sexual availability to other inmates, by exposing their underwear to new depths, to show if they were in or out. This got me to thinking that perhaps our teenagers had a secret level code, for the difference in backside prominence, say:
Level One, Will be available for basic hand-holding with incorporated embarrassed blush
Level Two: Would be open for general - awkward - kissing duties and level one playing.
Level Three:  Multi-player, fully inter-active role games and rapid downloading access - this is romantic parlance for the noughties generation.

In any event I charge the plainstiffs - these progenitors of the rear-guard action -guilty, GUILTY, GUILTY...of this heinie-ous crime !
in every sense - especially the common one - of the word. If no-one stands up to them now, where will it end ? It's a slippery slope my friends, that nobody really wants to see.

Would these young offenders be as understanding or as acceptable of this fashion grime, if their fathers or granddads walked around town displaying themselves in such a manner, I think not...I think not.

Let us live by the maxim - in this case - less is more !