Quick piece here on another one of the unsolved mysteries of life: Missing socks.
Socks are something that I personally am very horrible at. My socks are either dirty, have holes in them, or have twirled off to the alternate dimension where all my socks eventually end up.
I will buy a brand new pack of socks and place them into my drawer, where they usually stay put for a day or two, three if I’m lucky. I get to enjoy the wonderful feeling of fresh cloth under my feet for just that short period of time. Then, when I go to grab my third or fourth pair, I realize there are only a few socks in my drawer.
Didn’t I buy the twenty pack?
I sift around and realize the socks I’m grabbing are old.
It cant be?
I find a pair that look new. Breathing a sigh of relief, I sit down and start…
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