The mystery of where lost socks go.

Oh yes here we are... I've probably mentioned it before that I had lost the remote to my television. Well thanks for all your concerns and advice that problem is finally solved. I gave up and ordered a new one (actually two). This time I should find a string and tie it to my desk or something. Although I'm quite sure that string will somehow dissolve in my room.

Atmospheric conditions and the high amounts of noxious gases (ie wet dog smell when dry) given off by my pet land mammal quadruped offer quite a nasty environment in which string can't possibly exist for any period of time without just dissolving into nothingness. So that's what I assume keeps happening to our remote controls. Its scientifically sound.

OK OK its really a remote hoarding imp that also likes to eat the left sock of every pair.

Ah the wonder of the days which we have socks that can be worn on either foot! Course I guess that goes back as far as socks were in general circulation among the general populace... I mean ever see those weird socks people wear that are like gloves? Sure they're nice for the few times you know where they are. But socks, (that's what I've named the sock eating imp) the sock eating imp, surely lives in the dryer. There he is the champion hunter for his entire clan where he tells stories of the triumphs of the latest sock hunt. With him and his wife, securely, they have quite a clan of little sock eaters. For you see socks are not only their only source of food, but a powerful aphrodisiac.

Indeed. So how can we stop this legion of evil sock eaters? You can't cuz they're an endangered species.

Or maybe they came when the aliens accidentally miscalculated our gravity and crashed into Roswell, and their pet sock eating imps escaped to reak havoc and gourge on our delicious cotton assets.

Or maybe its even a scheme by hangs and Fruit of the Loom to increase sock sales. Why not use genetically engineered monsters to just eat the socks so people won't be able to keep them long after they become holey?

Or maybe our feet are just so sweaty and smelly they dissolve? Which brings me back to my original point about the string. Which leads me to believe I start these blogs having absolutely no idea what to write about and end them on a hilarious note rambling about the stupid thoughts that jump into my brain.

So where do the socks go? You decide. Vote today!

Chaio (caio? ciao?) Corpsters