Last of the Sox-hecians

While doing my laundry yesterday, something very alarming came to my attention. I counted (not the alarming part) 12 single non-matching black socks. What the hell? Where are those other 12 black socks? I’m sure there are missing white ones too, but I buy those in bulk so it doesn’t matter. One or two, not too alarming, but 12! Geeze!

Oh where are you poor lost socks? I hope wherever you are out there, you’re not too lonely and that the others are with you. Don’t be afraid.

Listen. Submit. You hear me? You're strong. You stay alive. I will find you ... no matter how far, how long it takes ... I will find you! (shaking fist in air).

They may take you to Canada or some remote part of the country, make you take some random unmatching sock against your will. Know that your true partner is here safe with me. Be strong. Do as they say. Know that’s it is only temporary. I will track you down. I will bring you home, my dear lost socks.

To you, my enemies, those who have taken my beloved socks away from their homes, and broken the pact between my people (feet), and the Sox-hecian tribe. I will not rest till my tomahawks glows red with revenge. This I promise on the graves of my people.

To you, my last 2 remaining pairs, I will protect you. No matter the cost. No matter what occurs. A GPS monitor will be tracking your every move. You, I swear, will not be lost like the others!




Oh goodness.. what the hell am I writing? I’m losing my mind.