File #12

This file applies mainly for those of you that actually do your own laundry. I’m sure it has happened on occasion that a sock or two goes missing. Why is this? Where do these socks go?

Ass's View:

Well, it’s actually very complicated. I pondered this for quite some time before deciding to investigate. I grabbed my handy dandy flashlight and ventured to the laundry room. Upon entering, I noticed a sock on the floor. I decided to use it as bait. I set it down carefully in the dryer. Fifteen hours, seven Jell-Os, five cups of apple juice, and two trips to the bathroom later, I noticed some movement from within. I was careful not to make any sudden moves. To my surprise, I saw the unbelievable-the back of the dryer was actually opening up, as though it were a door! I ventured into this door, curious as ever. The passageway was quite small, so, I had to suck in much breath. Finally, I saw a light. I found myself in a strange little room, one full of trinkets and small toys. It was truly a child’s heaven. Sometime during my exploration, I began to sense a presence, and also a foul stench. The air was getting thicker by the moment. Suddenly, a voice called out to me. I turned immediately to learn of its source. It was an old man, with wild gray hair. He looked a bit eccentric. His nose was his most predominant feature. It was huge! Just then, I found the missing socks. They were stuck onto his clothing. This was the foul stench. Attempting to stay calm, I asked him, “Who are you? And where am I?” He gave me a cool glance, and began his story. “My name,” he began, “is Gorlax. I come from a land far away, a different planet. It is impossible to pronounce it in human tongue; so, let us just call it Planet Argohnia. It is many galaxies away. On my planet, there are no smells. We, the Argohnians, are blessed with huge noses. On other planets, we can smell anything from miles away. But, we are sad, because we have no smells of our own. Well, not long ago, scientists found a way to generate scents. To do so, though, they would need samples of the best smells in the entire universe. I, among many, was sent to find these smells. I have stumbled upon your planet, and am experimenting with smells. At the moment, the fragrance of socks appeals to me most of all.” He continued to tell me about his life and adventures, and finally asked me, solemnly, never to repeat what I have heard to anyone. I told him I never would, and returned to the safety of my home. Well, ten minutes later, I’m writing this. A lesson has been learned… never trust me with secrets.
Side Note: what the hell was i on when i wrote this???

Butt's View:

So that's what happened to my alien socks!!! Grrrr they didn't smell that bad...

Heh. I have a laundry story too :) Just happened today while I was gone snowboarding...

I came back home, tired, smelly, and with a ton of laundry to do. (Well not really to *do* but you know, put it in the laundry basket. It's a long walk to that room...) As I reached for the door, my socks stepped on the wet carpet. Uh oh. Did the washing machine decide to try something new today? Apparently so. I slowly turned the handle, slowly pushed the door.. and could not open it more than an inch. WTF? To my surprise, the washing machine was blocking the door. When the heck did it get there?? That small room where the dryer, some towels, washing machine, and of course the laundry basket were in only had two openings. The door, which was impossible to open now, and a small window were my sis won't be able to fit in, but maybe I could. As I went rushing downstairs to advice my mom, she and my sis looked at each other and laughed. "The washing machine 'walked' right in front of the door. We tried everything to move the machine, even make it slide with water. Your sister nearly slipped off the roof trying to get to the window.. What are you laughing about?"

I've seen those ketchup commercials. I've even seen cartoons where the washing machines go berserk and jump all over the place. But *our* machine would never do that. Gah! what kind of washing machine does that?? (Note: Butt doesn't even know how to turn on the damn thing. Oh, the one time she attempted, her soccer short were nearly ripped into shreads) So there it is, standing stubbornly against the door. My dad even tried to take off the door. The ladder's way too short and the window's right above a very inclined and slippery roof. It is slightly open, as it always is; sitting there, smirking at us. The neighbours don't have longer ladders, and out last resort is to call the firefighters. The guy living in front of me and right next to me goes to my school. Heh, we are *not* gonna send a firetruck to our nice, peaceful street. Joy. We are temporarily out of washing machine, and half my clothes. .... Now I really need to go take a shower.

Story to be continued.. What is Butt going to do without her favorite jeans? Why are ladders never long enough? What will happen to the smelly stack of clothes that are going to pile up? Why am I writing about myself in the third person? *insert dramatic music here*