You’ll find these once fluffy companions flattened and moldering in parking lots, plastered against washer drums in laundromats, balled up in Lost and Found collections from sea to shining sea. Are we that cold-hearted, that indifferent? Have we completely lost our humanity?
Socks belong on our feet, not on missing posters. Keep a careful watch over them, ladies and gentlemen. Spending a lifetime stuffed in a hot, sweaty shoe isn’t a great gig, so they plan escape. And they’re wily bastards, cunning little shape-shifters. When opportunity knocks, zoom — they’re gone.
So do a head count on laundry day. Stop leaving them in hotel and locker rooms, along roadsides. They aren’t smart, they won’t find their way home. When one does turn up missing, and one will sooner or later, launch a search party. Rustle up a posse. Track that bad boy down.
Let’s put an end to these senseless disappearances.* We have sock drawers for a reason. Put a lock on yours, maybe a motion detector. Drastic measures and close supervision are called for. Thank you for your cooperation.
copyright © 2017 the whirly girl
* And reblogs. This is my third annual plea for safe socks, if you’re counting. The graphics are updated and the text has been revised a tiny bit, but it’s a reblog, all right. Shady, underhanded tactics such as these are legal according to whirly girl policies. The rules clearly state: ‘there are no rules.’
I assure you, stunts like this aren’t standard practice, but I reserve the right all the same. If you’re ever in doubt, check the fine print. I hide stuff there all the time. Have a fine day :o)