Sandals and Tube Socks


Wearing open-toed sandals with tube socks is not just a crude device of fashion, it's also a badge of identity. It says a lot about a man. And right now, this particular man has a lot to say. Although he will only be identified by his stocking-sandaled feet, we should all feel privileged that he'll be imparting his peculiar wisdom. Giving some inside takes directed to the hottest fab topics in today's pop-culture world -- from a man with the lowest fashion denominator possible.

Welcome to the first installment of "Sandals and Tube Socks."

Here are his thoughts:

Why can't you have your wife get her Kodak out her fanny pack and take a picture of you like a normal person? And why do you need so many pictures of "just yourself?" FUN FACT: the last picture I took of myself was on accident, and when we developed the film we found it was an embarrassing upside-down photo of one of my nose gremlins. Haha YUCK!

Armor is very important, take it from me. I always have my feet covered, even when I'm vacationing in moderate-to-mild weather. I think that's why I love this show. Even though they DO show a lot of nudity (no thank you, my wife's breasts do just fine... I love you DeLoris).

So I can type anything I want to anybody and it just "goes online?" And it's called the Twitter? I don't know if I trust this. It feels just like when my teenage son Randall got really into these "Pokey Man" and I had a hard time understanding why. But maybe I have to "get with it." Keep myself in touch with the youthful crowd. Ooh, I've got it! What about "sharing" my wife's goulash recipe? Could I post it there? No? The Twitter's not really good for sharing recipes?

Well I guess her Habanero Hellfire Goulash is a little more "intricate" than "140 characters." It takes up THREE PAGES in our cookbook!

Now this is something I can get into. I post pictures of my grandchildren without them asking and post really personal acknowledgments to the walls of my friends all the time. I think Facebook is here to stay as long as I am. And the last time I checked, my HDL isn't going anywhere!

Although I'm a man of incredible self control, I do like to let loose and rip into a vine once in a while (remember, anything in moderation is O.K... except Paganism). These 6 second moving-pictures are kind of like a game my buddies and I used to play in high school. It was called 7 minutes in heaven. It's where you get one of your buddies and you... well you know the rest, I won't bore you with the details. But yeah, it really tells you something about your buddy!

Until an accurate representation of my mustachioed smile can be placed inside my phone (or a good picture of potato salad), I will remain on the fence for this topic. Again, why can't we just smile to each other between our RV's on the campground? Is it too much to ask someone to get off their keester and say hello to their neighbor?

Oh I've got swagger. I once kissed DeLoris on the lawn at an Alan Jackson concert. If you want to make the girls swoon, you need to get yourself some good swagger. You should also pick up a few quarts of moxie and a pound of gumption.

I met DeLoris when I was a civil engineer back in Minnesota. But I guess not all guys can be as good with the females as I once was. Sometimes love is hard to find. But sometimes you just need to shift your focus to starting a family, and using sex only for procreation. That's when your senses will finally be heightened enough to get a good whiff of maternal instincts. Maternal instincts that will be gushing out of your soulmate if you're looking in the right places. The kind of tender love odor you just can't sniff out on the World Wide Web.

I was on Tinder a bit just for goofs, and I must say, women still prefer the mustache.

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