I have a theory. Yes, you know the drill. I was doing something mundane like house training an ocelot, when I had a sudden epiphany that had nothing to do with the ocelot savaging my arm.
It’s kinda funny how that keeps happening.
Anyway, here’s the theory: do you know how you always lose one sock? You do your laundry, fold your socks, and for no readily apparent reason, you’re short one sock. You look everywhere: in the washer and dryer, behind the sofa, in the cobra cage, in your secret hiding place where you keep the books you don’t want your mother to find, and under the ocelot litter box, but you can’t find it. So, with a sigh, you throw it in your sock drawer and wait for the fateful day when you lose yet another sock so you can have an even number again.
Now, here’s my theory:
Wait, you may want to sit down, because this will blow your mind.
What if instead of LOSING a sock, you’re actually GAINING a sock?
I mean how many of us know how many socks we actually have? All we know is that sometimes the number doesn’t match. We make the assumption that we’ve lost a sock, but it fact, we may have gained one.
Staggering, ain’t it? I’ll let that one sink in before I continue.
Doodeedoo, checkin’my mail. Doodeedoo, listenin’ to the radio. Doodeedoo.
Okay, I’m back. Now that you’ve properly digested my theory, here come the implications: sock sex.
Yes, that’s right. While they’re being cleaned your socks are bumpin’ uglies and having fully grown, sock babies. Maybe they’re getting it on in the washer and then the new sock gets born in the dryer. I dunno. It’s a mystery. One I’m fully prepared to investigate, assuming the government gives me a lab, several female, lingerie model/scientists as lab assistants and a whole lot of money.
NOTE: This is probably the 18th time I’ve suggested that the government give me a lot of money and access to lingerie models / scientists to investigate some dubious claim. I will continue to do so, on the idea that someday, they might actually do it. It’s the same reason I keep going on dates. Statistically speaking, there has to be a woman out there that I don’t repulse.
Just think of the possibilities! We may discover that socks have feelings and yearn for a greater understanding of the universe, just as we do. We may learn that they’re totally evil and bent on our destruction, which seeing as we put them on our feet is understandable. We may also learn where socks have their naughty bits. And how, y’know, they do it.
Anyway, there’s food for thought. Your socks, when you’re not looking, are having fantastic (or dirty, depending on their condition) sock sex.
Which begs the question of what your underwear is up to?