Iron
No not like iron I mean iron as in I need one. I am an old man and I have made it this far in life without owning an iron. All of the sudden however I feel like I should break down and buy one. I hate wrinkles. I have combatted wrinkles for years with the tumble method. Right after the clothes come out of the dryer you simply fold while hot and wrinkles melt away into your compulsiveness. However, as of late, with the purchase of a few shirts that don't want to comply with the tumble method, I have been feeling pressure to just fucking buy an iron. And maybe also and ironing board. Maybe its because I am getting old and feeling the need to someday find a mate so I won't be the old creepy bachelor on the block. Maybe its because I am finally caving in to some social norms like wearing a pressed shirt to a wedding or a bris. Or maybe its because when my sister was in town she asked to borrow my iron and when I told her that I didn't have one she looked at me as though I were a poor pathetic street urchin come a beggin for alms. I didn't like being looked at with such pity. If the purchase of a 20 dollar appliance will spare me from the throes of social embarassment and rampant pity parties in my honor then maybe this weekend I will go to Target and take my pick of the litter.So check out my plans for the weekend. Prepare to be envious.
~ wash dishes
~ clean apartment
~ buy iron
~ iron shirts
~ take my metamucil
~ attend mass
~ get a haricut
~ watch six feet under
~ suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune
~ read the manual that came with my new loveseat
~ clip toenails
Wadda ya think? Some exciting stuff, no? If you call and I don't answer it probably cause I couldn't hear you over the rumble of the iron. I promise to audio blog my toe nail clipping session. I wanna share the music of me with the masses. And they say bloggers are narcissistic.
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