… an embarrassingly true story of my impending insanity.
The Facts: I’m in hardcore laundry-doin’ mode in preparation for the trip to Virginia Beach to attend the annual Neptune Festival this weekend with my lovely girlfriend. The dryer buzzed. The load of dark-colors was no longer wet. I pulled my beloved Misfits t-shirt from the warm maw of the dryer, and properly installed its hanger. Then…
The Insanity: I pulled out the next t-shirt and instinctually grabbed a hanger. I stopped. I looked at the shirt, looked at the hanger, and actually spoke out loud:
Sorry, buddy. You’re being relegated to the Drawer of Obsolescence.
… and proceeded to fold the shirt accordingly.
This event begs a lot of questions:
- Who hangs up their crappy-ass t-shirts? I do.
- Who anthropomorphizes a crappy-ass t-shirt and addresses it in the second person? I did.
- Who actually considers one of the dresser drawers the “Drawer of Obsolescence”? Sadly, I do.
Y’know… because the undies, shorts and sock drawers see a lot of action.
File this under: Gary’s attempt at plausible deniability by way of insanity… with a little pinch of legal inculpability thrown in for good measure.