Being a sock is one of the most terrible horrible and smelly jobs a guy can get. All you do your whole life is cover some smelly foot and get stepped on wherever the person goes! It stinks LITERALLY! Plus if they never wash you turn dirty and stinky and eventually you get moist and the filthy toes start to pop out of you and you rip and then you are trash, left to live out your days in a landfill rotting away next to banana peels and paper plates.
But some of the lucky socks go to good homes like an elderly couple with a wife who is organized and loves laundry. Those socks are the lucky ones, the ones who get ironed and folded and gracefully place in an organized drawer. Unlike me I belong to some 12 year old boy who after wearing me for about a month straight then throws me on the floor of his filthy room just waiting for the laundry lady to pick me up and wash me. Ahh sweet relief! My favorite thing in this big blue world is relaxing in the rinse
cycle. The dryer feels like a nap on the beach, the warm air running through my cotton threads, pure joy.
The terrible cycle starts again, this time I see my buddies from the drawer being sent down to the boy's foul feet. That my friends is true terror, watching your chums being sent down to those feet, this time I am watching safe up in the dra……..(giant hand grabs sock) AHHHHHHHH!
(fading voice) Being a sock rrrrreeeeaaaakkkkssss
