Sisterhood Of The Traveling Pants
So. Well, so. Soooooo.
So, the pants I'm wearing may not be mine. They were laying at the foot of my dresser, right where I thought I'd tossed a pair of my jeans, and since they were the same brand, cut, and size of my jeans, and since they were in my room, I assumed they were mine, and pulled them on.
But then as I was walking, I felt something in my pocket and pulled out a tootsie roll stick and wrapper. Except I haven't had a tootsie roll in months, if at all this year, and I doubt that. So how in the world did the remnants of one make its way into my pocket?
My guess, my ONLY guess, is that these aren't my pants. Remember how there were four girls who crashed on the floor of my bedroom for a few days? One of them could have been careless and forgotten her pants, and it's not like American Eagle hipster jeans aren't popular.
So they may not be my pants, but I really have no idea. For all I know, someone could have stolen my pants and paraded around in them, grabbing up tootsie pops and snarfing them down, carelessly leaving the remains in one of my pockets for me to discover.
I just wish I had an answer.
So, the pants I'm wearing may not be mine. They were laying at the foot of my dresser, right where I thought I'd tossed a pair of my jeans, and since they were the same brand, cut, and size of my jeans, and since they were in my room, I assumed they were mine, and pulled them on.
But then as I was walking, I felt something in my pocket and pulled out a tootsie roll stick and wrapper. Except I haven't had a tootsie roll in months, if at all this year, and I doubt that. So how in the world did the remnants of one make its way into my pocket?
My guess, my ONLY guess, is that these aren't my pants. Remember how there were four girls who crashed on the floor of my bedroom for a few days? One of them could have been careless and forgotten her pants, and it's not like American Eagle hipster jeans aren't popular.
So they may not be my pants, but I really have no idea. For all I know, someone could have stolen my pants and paraded around in them, grabbing up tootsie pops and snarfing them down, carelessly leaving the remains in one of my pockets for me to discover.
I just wish I had an answer.
posted by juxtaposer at 8:00 PM
4 Comments:
It's my tootsie roll. And no, I will not explain.
how big is that tootsie roll?
If you run into a owl that wants to find out how long it would take to eat that tootsie roll, you tell that owl that you don't talk to strange owls, then report him to the police.
Wait a sec. that was tootsie pops. Nevermind.
But if you do see that owl, let me know. We've got a grudge to settle.
He knows what he did.
You know, there are those of us sitting at home, waiting with bated breath, anxiously expecting the great verbosity and witticisms we have expected from our beloved Liz.
you haven't blogged in a week. What's up?
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