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Three score and ten or more

Saturday, April 08, 2006



It happened again. The doggone fornicating, copulating, propagating socks are at it again. I opened up the sock drawer and there they were, whole batches of bastard socks, just staring up at me and daring me to do anything about them (For clarification, check the blog archives for Saturday, September 10, 2005). They don’t know it yet, but secretly I am gloating. I have puppetry workshops to give and those egotistical, smug little b*stards will all end up as glove puppets.

For what its worth, I am going to Hilton Head Island tomorrow morning (see my earlier post on timeshares), and unless I discover a yet untapped source I won't have computer access so you will (sigh) live without me for a week. (I'm not taking the darned -no pun- socks, their fate can wait,)


At 4:10 AM, Blogger Mahndisa S. Rigmaiden said...

04 09 06

Hey Richard:
Thank goodness you have found use for those damnable bastard socks. They similarly are an affront to my eyes after the laundry is done.ARGHHHHHHH!!! I hope you enjoy your trip to Hilton Head; we will miss you. Warmest Regards for a wonderful week:)

At 7:36 AM, Blogger Fish said...

It's the washing machines. They aren't really machines but sentient beings. They've figured out how to hold one sock for days or even months until you finally throw away it's mate then it will mix the captive sock in with your next load of laundry. For some reason washing machines in their simple mentality think this hilarious and always laugh uproariesly over your plight. Of course their laughter isn't like our laughter but closely resembles the strange sound that wakes you in the middle of the night, but you can never identify.

At 10:25 PM, Blogger Gayle said...

Fish is getting close, but he's a bit off of the mark.

I used to think the washing machine ate the socks. How could it be possible to lose so many socks? So I had what I thought was a brilliant idea and bought tiny safety pins and pinned all the socks together when I washed them so they couldn't separate. Guess what? It worked! It can't be the washing machine, because if the washing machine ate one sock, it could it eat two. So I racked my poor little brain and I think I have figured it out:

It's the danged aliens! Seriously! One legged aliens are stealing our socks! Has to be... no other explanation is feasible.

At 9:03 AM, Blogger Ed Abbey said...

I solved that problem years ago. I wear boots so nobody can tell that I am wearing bastard socks. If I am heading to someone's house, I take the time to break out a new pair.

At 1:00 PM, Blogger Saur♥Kraut said...

Have fun! Those socks will do it every time. I think they run away and join the circus. Maybe that's where they get sock monkeys from(?)

At 9:36 PM, Blogger Patrick Joubert Conlon said...

When I used to pay to have my laundry done in SF, I blamed the Chinese laundry lady. Now I do my own laundry in my own machine and it still happens. Gayle's right - it must be aliens. But seriously - this is one of the great mysteries of life.

At 6:35 AM, Blogger Walker said...

They are actually passionate Puppets.

At 7:46 AM, Anonymous Kathleen said...

Love the post. I decided long ago that I will ignore the issue and keep my sanity.

Hope the trip to Hilton Head was enjoyed.


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