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“Sock Shock”



“Sock Shock”

Oh hi!  Come on in. I was just about to whip up a nice fresh  batch of bloggy goodness just for you.

One of the main challenges that I face as a blog writer is making sure that my life stays full of interesting new experiences to share with you.

I know  there are some bloggers writing amazingly insightful articles about travel, art, politics, or religion among other intellectual stimulating subjects that manage to inform and enlighten the reader.

So, after considering all my options with a great deal of contemplation I have decided to talk to you about… my socks.

It was a day like any other, except that something was bothering my foot. It felt like there might be something in my shoe. I didn’t know what it was, but it was by my pinky toe and whatever the name is for the toe next to the pinky. Moe? I have no idea.

So Pinky and Moe were feeling weird, like maybe the little sewn line across the toe was landing in the wrong place, or maybe the shoe was rubbing wrong. I ignored it.

During dinner I was talking to my family – casual dinner conversation.

Did you ever have one of those moments when you are talking to a group of people and you suddenly realize that nobody is listening, and instead of closing your mouth and sulking in the corner hugging your knees and sobbing, you start making up all sorts of wild outlandish things to make sure they are not listening at all?

These ‘you aren’t  listening’ tests usually involve trips you took to other planets, polka dotted talking animals, and occasionally the grand finale, “and then I farted… the end”.(Hey, I didn’t make the rules, I just follow them. Don’t judge me.)

Well I was in one of those situations. I mentioned that it felt like there was something in my shoe. I could immediately tell that I was the only one listening to me, so I continued the conversation with my target audience in mind.

“I think there is something in my shoe…..”  (long pause)

“It feels like maybe ……..” (long pause)

“… a tree”

“because I feel its branches rubbing against my toes…” (long pause)

“…every time the wind blows”

Now, remember this was to my target audience of *me*, so if you don’t find that humorous, that’s okay because I think it is fall on the floor, piss your pants, and lose control of a few of your sphincters, hilarious.

So, back to the story. Nobody was listening, but I decided to inspect my shoe for trees, sloths, or anything else that could be scraping my delicate piggies.

I discovered the unthinkable. Inside the sock that I had been wearing all day. There was a straight pin. A PIN! In my SOCK! All Day!

I know, right? Scary.

So, doing a bit of CSI like investigation, here is what I think happened.

At some point on laundry day,  the sock escaped in the laundry room and found its way to the sewing kit and was able to grab and conceal a pin – probably in the sun-don’t-shine place where prisoners hide their shivs, but I don’t understand enough about sock anatomy to know where a sock Proctologist would even be looking – and quite frankly, I don’t want to know. Suppose all these years we have all been shoving our feet into the butt-hole of a sock. Good God,  no wonder they all try to escape on laundry day.

But I digress. Anyway, I found the shiv and removed it.

My toes, Pinky and Moe, are fine, thanks for asking.

The end.

Okay, so maybe that was not the most brain tingling or thought provoking story in the world. But there are several bloggers out there who  are writing blogs that consist of such riveting verbal prose as;
“i have a headache. i think i’ll go get something to eat…. maybe. I’m kind of tired. My hair looks like crap today. Will write more later.”

How can I compete with such relevant and content-rich quality writing? I cracked under the pressure.

Thanks for reading. I don’t usually ramble this much, except the time when I was talking to that giant polka dot elephant that I met on a trip to Saturn….

….and then I farted. The end.

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