My Socks and The Emotional Rollercoaster

Sometimes you NEED a sense of humor ...

Today, due to hard work, talent, and skill - I won $420.00 at the casino by picking my hockey number on roullette. Extremely excited, I came back to the apartment to celebrate with Jordy, Lou, Jill, and Charly. We drink Rye and Cokes and decide to head to a foam party!

Being excited, I want to take a hundred dollars of my winnings and spoil the girls. Of course taking that much money to a foam party is not a good idea, considering I will be taking money for myself as well. So I devise a stupid fucking plan.

I will put the hundred dollar bill in my sock!

Let me back up a bit, for those of you who have been reading these articles, you'll remember that my relationship with my socks has been rocky and unfortunate. It's been an emotional rollercoaster ride with the theft, lying, and my last pair outright leaving me on the middle of our sailing trip!

SO, I decided to try again to have a healthy relationship with my socks and bought a couple new pairs. I'm not sure if I was ready yet - but I did anyways. We all have to move on.

NOW back to the story. So now I have new socks and decide to discreetly hide a hundred dollar bill in them. This way it'll be difficult to get to, so I won't blow it right away AND they'll be less chance of losing it. Right? Wrong. My fucking god-damn socks stab me in the back.

While walking to the bar, my new socks, for reasons unexplained, will NOT stay on my feet! Now I'm not talking about them running low and me having to pull them up. I'm talking that kind of shit that happens when you're wearing rubber boots! And your socks just end up being all balled up in the toe of your boots, totally disregarding it's actual function as a sock. And this happened to me THREE times while walking to the bar! And this bar isn't THAT far away!

Exasperated and angery that my sock drama is back full force - I decide to take off my socks. This is when I realize the one hundred dollar bill is gone.

Fucking socks - why don't they want me to be happy?

But despite that, we had a blast. Many, many thanks to Baker, who thru the Remote Rye Foundation, donated enough to (almost) buy the girls a round of drinks! Only Jesus is cooler than Baker. I will name my first-born Baker. And I will sing songs to him about Baker. Vive le Baker!