I think at this point, you are all aware of my personal hatred of bare feet. Yeah, it runs deep. But what you may not be aware of is my love of new socks (New socks were provided by my lovely and talented Fiancée.). If you're easily offended, then you best steer clear of me when I put on some new socks, because you will hear a deep, satisfying sigh of pure, unadulterated joy come out of me when I put on those new socks. Let me be clear about one thing: I only wear crew socks. Never, under any circumstances, will you see me wearing ankle socks*. I have bald ankles (probably from all the sock wearing that I do) and I like to keep them safe and warm. Here's a little something I drew up to commemorate today's post:
*In the event of a crew sock apocalypse (the "Great Crewsocalypse," as it will be called), I will use my secret stash of duct tape to fashion the ankle/calve portion of the socks and claim that they are a special pair of crew socks able to withstand any and all anti-crew sock weaponry.
