- Joined
- May 11, 2010
- Messages
- 20,703
- Location
- Charlotte, NC
- Display Name
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Snorting his way across the USA
The last time I remember it I was maybe ten, twelve years old? No, that was the first time I remember it. Sitting there on the floor. Bloody. The nice new white dress shirt ripped and stained with blood. I didn't see them at first. The damn thing wouldn't unfold. OUCH!!!!!!! What the h....
Yeah. What, exactly, the hell? We all know that there are bad perps out there that will stick pins in little kids' halloween candies, but why would someone do that to a little kid's SHIRT??? Okay I found it. I removed it. I found another. I removed it. I found another. I removed it. The damn thing still wouldn't unfold. Out of frustration, I ripped it apart. I put it on. Pins were jabbing my flesh. Ripping at my flesh.
Mommmmmmmiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!
The next time, as a drunken teen. Same end result. I didn't scream for mommy. I did scream, out of pain, frustration, anger and rage. The shirt was trashed. I think maybe one more time in my adult life after than and then I swore I would never buy another shirt or whatever that came prepackaged with pins. Well I never did buy them. They were given to me. If I buy a shirt, it's coming off a rack.
It's getting cold outside. This means it's getting cold inside. It's a simple law of thermodynamics that setting nighttime temperatures to 68 and below during the winter helps to reduce the law of economics. It occurs to me that now that we are in heat mode, the typical tank top and gym shorts that I always wear to bed may be just a little light. Yes I wear my gym clothes to bed. The moment I wake up, I jump out of bed, make pee pees, slap my shoes on, grab my gym bag and head towards the fitness valhalla. Now, I remember that, probably at least twenty years ago, when I was still trading useless presents with the folks at Christmas time, I had a pair or two of pajamas, never opened. I think I have gotten rid of the fifteen or so pairs of house slippers by now.
No 'use by' date. So good so far, I rip the yellowing plastic packaging away, pull out a very stiff cardboard like folded pajama set, which was in fact a folded pajama set affixed to a large square piece of cardboard (why?) and to my horror...
Pins. F(U$#*&%ING bastard little pins. Fing OUCH!!!!! Find a tiny little invisible pin. Remove it. Find another. Remove it. Find another Remove it. Get everything sorted out. Put them on. So far so good. So I go to plop down on the sofa.
OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! FUUUUUUUUU*$^%#&(*%#%$#$UFK!!!!!!
Yeah. I had to dig that one out. Hopefully the blood will come out of the sofa. Why. Why. Whywhywhywhywhy. Was it REALLY NECESSARY to BOOBY TRAP new clothes with SHARP PIECING OBJECTS????????
Okay, new problem. Add insult to injury. These aren't big fat pins like moms used to use for sowing and for whatnot. These are tiny little bastages you can't even see. I tried throwing them away in the rubbish can in the bathroom. But, I wanted to be on the safe side so I tried jabbing them in a dried Clorox wipe so they wouldn't be loose. Smooth move, ex lax (or in this case Dracula) because the GD things are SO HARD TO SEE I tried pushing them in, head first. So they embedded themselves in my thumb, not the Clorox wipe. In my fit of rage, I yanked them out and sent them flying. No telling when I will find one with my toes.
Am I the only one that gets angered by pins in clothes? I get sewing pins. They have a role in society. That role is to aid in sewing. Those pins are removed when the sewing operation is complete.
Yeah. What, exactly, the hell? We all know that there are bad perps out there that will stick pins in little kids' halloween candies, but why would someone do that to a little kid's SHIRT??? Okay I found it. I removed it. I found another. I removed it. I found another. I removed it. The damn thing still wouldn't unfold. Out of frustration, I ripped it apart. I put it on. Pins were jabbing my flesh. Ripping at my flesh.
Mommmmmmmiiiiiiiieeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!
The next time, as a drunken teen. Same end result. I didn't scream for mommy. I did scream, out of pain, frustration, anger and rage. The shirt was trashed. I think maybe one more time in my adult life after than and then I swore I would never buy another shirt or whatever that came prepackaged with pins. Well I never did buy them. They were given to me. If I buy a shirt, it's coming off a rack.
It's getting cold outside. This means it's getting cold inside. It's a simple law of thermodynamics that setting nighttime temperatures to 68 and below during the winter helps to reduce the law of economics. It occurs to me that now that we are in heat mode, the typical tank top and gym shorts that I always wear to bed may be just a little light. Yes I wear my gym clothes to bed. The moment I wake up, I jump out of bed, make pee pees, slap my shoes on, grab my gym bag and head towards the fitness valhalla. Now, I remember that, probably at least twenty years ago, when I was still trading useless presents with the folks at Christmas time, I had a pair or two of pajamas, never opened. I think I have gotten rid of the fifteen or so pairs of house slippers by now.
No 'use by' date. So good so far, I rip the yellowing plastic packaging away, pull out a very stiff cardboard like folded pajama set, which was in fact a folded pajama set affixed to a large square piece of cardboard (why?) and to my horror...
Pins. F(U$#*&%ING bastard little pins. Fing OUCH!!!!! Find a tiny little invisible pin. Remove it. Find another. Remove it. Find another Remove it. Get everything sorted out. Put them on. So far so good. So I go to plop down on the sofa.
OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW! FUUUUUUUUU*$^%#&(*%#%$#$UFK!!!!!!
Yeah. I had to dig that one out. Hopefully the blood will come out of the sofa. Why. Why. Whywhywhywhywhy. Was it REALLY NECESSARY to BOOBY TRAP new clothes with SHARP PIECING OBJECTS????????
Okay, new problem. Add insult to injury. These aren't big fat pins like moms used to use for sowing and for whatnot. These are tiny little bastages you can't even see. I tried throwing them away in the rubbish can in the bathroom. But, I wanted to be on the safe side so I tried jabbing them in a dried Clorox wipe so they wouldn't be loose. Smooth move, ex lax (or in this case Dracula) because the GD things are SO HARD TO SEE I tried pushing them in, head first. So they embedded themselves in my thumb, not the Clorox wipe. In my fit of rage, I yanked them out and sent them flying. No telling when I will find one with my toes.
Am I the only one that gets angered by pins in clothes? I get sewing pins. They have a role in society. That role is to aid in sewing. Those pins are removed when the sewing operation is complete.