I'm Done With Dress Socks

That's right, I'm done with em; and here's why:



Just look at that classy bitch!! It's got a leather heel and rubber padded front sole insert. That is a mack daddy dress boot! I'm totally gonna own that and for no other reason than to wear comfortable friggin' socks all day for a change. Sure it looks like a pimp boot but, hey, pimps are on their feet all day long so maybe they just might know a thing or two about proper footwear. No more going through my drawer searching out a matching pair of suit socks. I'm tossin' on a pair of comfortable Wilson super-padded Wal-Mart specials and then my new pimp boots. I spent an hour in the rain such trying to find a pair to purchase but I guess I'm the first to the demand or last to the supply. Regardless, I have to order the damn things and I'd order 'em now but it's late and I got way too much stuff to do tomorrow.

Hopefully, I have a couple of dress socks still left in the drawer that kinda resemble each other.

The Quest At End

I'm down to five. Five left socks left. Five with no partner to return to the fold. Two are new and I feel really bad for them, the other three...well I knew their fate long ago. Still, I'd hope to find the match for all of 'em but I didn't. And I'm a bit sad about that. I don't wanna tell 'em I stopped searching for their match but I did (days ago, if truth be told). Now, as the wife keeps naggin' about them and I keep having to walk over them as I get up, I know a decision must be made. I have to let them go. I have to chuck 'em into the trash. I want to save one in particular (an expensive off-brown one with detailed embroidery across it's top) but it would only prolong the inevitable. I saved almost thirty five of my socks by actively seeking out their life mates but I can only think about the five I lost. The five I failed.

Oddly, I discovered over the years I also own hosiery: little thin, dainty socks that can stretch all the way up to my sack'n'crack. Maybe I was a Russian ballerina in a past life.