Monday, May 30, 2016

Dirt Magnet

Unfasten your bedazzled belts.  It's Memorial Day.  It is now safe to move about the world in white.  Non-conformist that I am, I broke out the white two days ago.  You heard me.  I'm a rule-breaker, a fashion renegade.  The Short JG put on my crisp virginal shorts, newly purchased at a nice discount, and paraded through the neighborhood, waving my white flag, surrendering all common sense.  High school history books and secret government files will verify that the SJG is simply incapable of wearing white without attracting instantaneous schmutz.  I'm a dirt magnet.  How it lands on me, I can't tell you, but there it is, a black smudge of unknown origin, a stubborn spot that will never come out.  Oh sure, I can Shout it out, drown it in bleach to no avail.  Trust me, this mockery is eternal.  An endless reminder: Don't do it, do it, do it, don't you break out the white.  Post-walkies, my crisp virgins had been corrupted.  Deflowered by a demon speck.  Tragic, I know.  And yet, for a brief moment in time, my whiter-than-white shorts were perfect in every way, and so was the SJG.  It was fun while it lasted.


  1. Replies
    1. I wore it today and didn't spill - a miracle!

  2. You're powers of cleanliness boggle the mind!!

  3. Thank you, Bubbles. I like to wash up now and then.