Me: Hey Sock, What’s up?
Sock: Your feet smell bad.
Me: Yeah. Sorry about that. It’s just that I am always warm and my feet sweat and… Well. I am sorry but it isn’t going to change.
Sock: I cannot wait until you throw me away or use me as a rag in the garage so I don’t have to smell you anymore.
Me: Dude, I am sorry but there is nothing I can do about it. You know that I have tried like everything. I have tried foot powder and that odor eliminator stuff. I mean, come on. You were there.
Sock: I don’t know how the shoe handles it. The other socks and I have been trying to escape but you pay such close attention to our every move.
Me: No I don’t. It’s not like I have you in a safe. I throw you in a bin.
Sock: yeah but you bundle us together first so we can’t crawl away.
Me: I do that so I don’t have to look for a matching pair every morning.
Sock: You shoes have paid a voodoo witch doctor to put a curse on you.
Me: Really, what kind of curse?
Sock: I think it was something like your feet will shrink so you can’t wear them any longer.
Me: Why wouldn’t they just have him put a curse on my to make my feet not smell or to make me not as warm as I normally am.
Sock: Yeah… the shoes elected the flip-flops to handle the ordeal and the flip-flops are basically mentally handicapped.
Me: Wow. That makes me feel bad for walking on them.
Sock: It’s okay. They don’t know any better. They think it is fun.
Me: Oh, well I guess then it isn’t as bad. Is there anything else going on other than my feet smelling really bad.
Sock: Well, your feet reek but I think that is covered by our previous conversation.
Me: Yeah. That was definitely covered.
Sock: Did I mention that your feet get really hot?
Me: You didn’t but I know they do.
Sock: I mean they are like fire or something.
Me: Yeah. I know.
Sock: You should get those things checked out.
Me: I don’t think it works like that.
Sock: Are you sure?
Me: No, not really.
Sock: Well, maybe you should just talk to you doctor about it the next time you are in. I am just saying is all.