You win, laundry.

Checkmate, Laundry!

 

This morning, as I went to procure clothing for myself, it hit me in the nostrils that everything I owned was covered in baby puke. Awesome. As I type this, I’m wearing a “Let me see that THONG! Spring break 2000” t-shirt and some moth-eaten pajama pants Lover Fo’ Life long forgot about in the bottom of his bottom drawer. In short, I’ve never looked better!

You win laundry. I can no longer go in public looking like a sane person without giving in and doing you (getyourmindoutofthegutter.)

I have to say, you were a noble competitor, a worthy adversary and it was my pleasure to avoid you for all this time. Game respect Game, you are the victor.

So look out world (people at the grocery store) right now I may look like a crazed spring breaker that got lost and wandered for 11 years, I assure you, the next time you see me buying out the store’s yellow squash (Angry Baby loves yellow Squash!) and ham-fisting a bag of swedish fish, I’ll be dressed to the nines in CLEAN REAL CLOTHES!!!!

ONWARD ANGRY SOLDIERS! Fight your “Laundry” (aka my Vietnam) with everything ya got. Take those things you need to do: stain treat and sort the heck out of them…GET BUSY! Because, in the end EVERYTHING WILL COME OUT IN THE WASH! (crowd groans and throws beads from mardi-gras 2000.)


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