You don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here

You know, when you rip your pants, it’s really just a passive-aggressive way of your clothing telling you that it would like a divorce. If my pants could have talked today in the car, they would have said, “I think we should be worn on other people.” So here I am, left with the shreds of a former relationship. I thought we went together well, we went everywhere together–who saw this coming? We matched, never clashed. And now I have to go through the trouble of looking for another pair of pants, trying to look cool, making sure that I want to spend time in them.I think I’ll go for a run.


About Wellsy

Chris is a twenty-something Special Education teacher and Football coach in a little town south of Eugene, Oregon. Chris happily lives with his beautiful wife and his terribly uncoordinated Grate Dane named Moose. Chris has been known to travel, like reading, wanting more time to writing, be in the outdoors more, and generally not befoul the world.

Posted on April 30, 2004, in random whine and tagged , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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