the robe goes poof
Oh. My. God.
My beloved robe.
One day it was a robe.
A soft and fluffy and wonderful robe.
Today it is strings barely held together by a hint terrycloth actually once existed nearby in the space time continuum.
Oh. My. God.
My beloved robe.
One day it was a robe.
A soft and fluffy and wonderful robe.
Today it is strings barely held together by a hint terrycloth actually once existed nearby in the space time continuum.
0 Responses to the robe goes poof
Lately something like this has been happening to my socks, and I usually don’t notice it until I’m changing shoes at the Fred Astaire studio and then everyone can my big toe sticking out or whatever.
Tease.
You bet.
Yay, time for a trip to Victoria’s Secret! Any excuse for shopping shouldn’t be all bad for you–you like traipsing about buying things.
But I miss my robe.
Okay I got a new robe and it is nice and I am sure I will grow attached to it over time but I was very attached to my old robe. We had history.
Go naked and you won’t have these problems.
Call me selfish I do not want to make the UPS guy that happy.
I sincerely hope you asked the old robe if getting a new one was okay. I mean, you two sound close and I would hate to think you would make such a decision without first consulting the old robe.
I mean….that just wouldn’t be cricket, now would it?
I am trying to think whether that is deep Native American philosophy at work Fork or your place is the scary anti-feng-shui zone.
It’s more the deranged atheist/the-carpet-needs-a-vacuum zone.