These are the first to fall, but the first of many!

The time for talking has passed, the time for action is upon us!

I don’t know about you, but I am fucking sick of putting on a pair of socks only to discover a hole in one or both large enough to accommodate a scared and wounded fox. Not only does it present me with that which I fear most, a choice of my course of action (do I find another pair, or tough it out like a real man?), but each solution is what you might call sub-optimal.

So yeah, I’m not pulling any punches now, you sock-faced bastards. From now on, every single sock I find with a hole in not only gets thrown away, it also condemns its fellow regardless of whether the other sock has a hole. Hopefully this will serve as an example to the other socks, show them that the limits of my mercy have been reached. Perhaps it’ll even get that pair of jeans with the dodgy zip to buck up its ideas.

Of course, following the course of action as outlined above would be foolish to say the least, had I not some plan of procuring replacements. Very soon I would have no socks at all and be forced to travel everywhere barefoot, lest I make my shoes all stinky. As it is, I just got paid, so I’m feeling wealthy enough to decree that for every three pairs of socks thrown away I shall buy four more. They shall be lush and thick, for winter creeps ever nearer, and come in a panoply of colours (though with more than a few hewn from darkest black, since black goes with everything).