Off the plank with ye!

I still have a bruise on the palm of my hand from Friday, when I jumped out of Kathy's car at an intersection and hit the crosswalk button with a little too much enthusiasm.

I lost my phone last Wednesday and I've been kind of weird ever since.

My jeans have passed into the realm of the truly sacred by sprouting a hole in the crotch. I have nothing against holy jeans, really. A rip here, a bit of fraying there can look kind of cool, but when an old pair of jeans gets a hole in the crotch, I find that I have the strong urge to not wear them for anything other than hanging out around home or maybe doing yardwork.

I always get concerned that people will look at me and then think that I have some sort of malignant crotch rot, which is really stupid, because assuming that people are kind of like me, they don't spend a lot of time staring at and noticing those sorts of things. Regardless, I don't like wearing pants when they get too many holes in them.

I finally got paid for the work I did over Christmas. I think I'll go buy myself a new pair of jeans. A pair that doesn't have holes.

This post sucked. Alright, off the plank with me!