Tuesday, January 15, 2013

A Theory



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?

Cheers,
-Jason

5 comments:

Vince said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Gillsing said...

A very interesting theory, and I'd recommend your government to pay close attention to you. But my socks must never have sex then, because I never find an uneven number when I'm taking care of my laundry. I may have an uneven number in my drawer though, since I retire socks when they have holes on both sides. My major problem with socks while doing laundry is to pair them together with socks of similar wear & tear, plus size. Right now I'm wearing a rather mismatched pair, size-wise.

Wulf said...

What you are failing to take into account is the hyperdimensional functionality of a spinning dryer, combined with the terminal mass dysfunction.
If you ever notice, it's rarely 1 sock that is mismatched, typically it is 3.
What is actually happening is that the mass of the socks combined with the centripetal acceleration of the dryer drum creates a temporal anomaly that risks tearing reality. Dryers are engineered to displace the extra mass, equating to 3 socks, through the wormhole. This causes those 3 socks to be displaced in time. Sometimes you find extra socks in your dryer, and sometimes you find 3 less than you put in. It's Physics!

Blackbird71 said...

I actually came across an explanation for this phenomenon years ago when I was doing research for a high school science paper on black holes. There is something called the particle pair theory, which states that as two identical particles reach the event horizon of a black hole, they are split apart, one particle gets pulled into the gravity well, while the other is shot off at a tangent.

So the theory is that something about the physics of a clothes dryer generates a very small singularity, a miniature black hole so to speak. If a pair of socks comes close enough to this singularity during the tumble cycle, one sock will be pulled in, collapsed by the intense gravity, while the other is tossed out into the rest of the laundry, to be discovered later as a lonely sock.

Yes, I actually found that explanation in a real book on astrophysics, although I'm pretty sure it was done as a joke. I included it in my report anyway; my teacher got a kick out of it.

Jason Janicki said...

Actually, Gillsing, I think your socks are just asexual. Or maybe they're part of some sort of sock monastery.

Well, I flunked Physics in high school, but I aced Biology :) That might explain why I prefer the 'sox-sex' hypothesis ;)