Of Bloggers and Sock Fetishists

Here's an interesting theory from Miguel on why people blog:

As the internet's growing more and more, the personal pool of information and knowledge that was once exclusive can be absorbed by anybody, anybody, who cares to read-- and it's growing... Then I think, blogging is the perfect reaction to this. How natural is it to assert your own individuality in the face of all this chaotic sameness and everythingness that is the internet? It's almost a kind of knee-jerk reflex, almost inevitable. Who wouldn't want to claim individuality and personalize and link to the bizarre? And, ironically, it all just becomes one blog that compromise one of the insurmountable and incomprehensible many, littering livejournals, xangas, blogspots, etc. everywhere. All unsettingly natural, the "one in the many."

It always amazes me that somehow people I don't know are reading this blog too. I mean, I do my fair share of blog-hopping sometimes, but I rarely find one that's captivating enough that I'll wanna read every new entry. Maybe I'm flattering myself and no one does that here, but still, it's really kinda cool to hear from complete strangers. The more the merrier. (Hi, min!)

After I put up a link on my Friendster page to here, I've actually gotten Friendster messages from someone about this here blog. Aww, shucks. And I thought no one gave a shit about Friendster.

Moving on... I had a strange encounter today. This afternoon, I went for a run... all of 2.4km. Pretty damn amazing. Those who know me know I hate to run, I don't know what got into me. Perhaps it was the pressure of seeing the pounds pile on since I returned from the States. Anyway, I thought it'd be nice to take a dip in the pool after the run, since I was sweating buckets. It was a pretty hot afternoon, and amazingly for this week, it wasn't raining. So I was in the locker/shower room changing into my trunks and I went to the sink to wash my face because I was feeling really hot. When I returned after like 20 seconds, I found one of my socks missing from inside my shoe. I was like, "What the fuck?" because I clearly remembered stuffing a sock into each shoe. Socks stuffed into shoes do not just go missing on their own, unlike socks in washing machines, dryers, or sock drawers. I hunted around, and saw no sign of it. There was only one explanation: A sock fetishist!

I can imagine many of you going "Ewww" already, but apparently it's a pretty common fetish, at least from info on the internet and shit. I don't really care either way. It was a pretty cheap sock, and I have tons of other ones just like it. Plus, imagine, an alpha male figure walks in after a workout, dripping with sweat and, um, male-ness. Who wouldn't want a piece of me? (Ah, how shameless can I get...) And you know what, it's kinda flattering that someone actually found me attractive enough to wanna make off with one of my personal items (even though it is another guy... hmm. D'oh!). Maybe if more people found me sexually attractive I'd be getting more booty and I wouldn't be this disgruntled. But I digress. There was only one part about the whole thing that pissed me off. Well, maybe two.

Firstly, he could've asked. I would've given it to him had he asked. It's only polite to ask. But that's not too likely to happen, is it?

Second, why did he take only one sock? That's terrible! He should've taken both! Being the anal-retentive that I am, what the hell am I gonna do with one sock? I'm probably gonna throw it away, because I certainly can't wear it without the other side, and I can't stand keeping it all by itself in the sock drawer. And then down the road I'm gonna have a hole in another sock and want to replace it with this one, only to realize that I'd already thrown it away. Aargh! That was just so inconsiderate of him! What a selfish bastard! Does he know how much anguish having just one sock causes me?

In fact, it caused me so much anguish that I had to be a little consumer whore and spend the entire evening at retail therapy with Kiwi, spending so much more than the price of the sock. I finally got that sweet Springfield corduroy jacket I'd been eyeing for a while, along with quite a few pieces of sportswear (ironically, for someone who doesn't do sports all that much I do have quite the sportswear collection). Damn you, Sock Fetishist! Why couldn't you have taken both of them?

Why??

WHY~~??!

Oh, and Happy Halloween to all. Enjoy yourselves in E-ton, and everyone have a drink for me, as usual. Happy belated birthday to the crazy ho's Sarah and Eileen!