Maybe I think too much...?

How can there be 120 odd socks in my laundry basket?
I know!
That’s way too fucking many odd socks for one family to own. Where did their partners go? Did they divorce each other and jump out of my window? Did they argue as they were rolled up together, like a fiery couple (possibly imitating husband and I) AND just split up…!

Should I start a website showing pictures of my lonely odd socks - advertising for a partner?
Would this solve the world’s problem of odd sock-ness?
Imagine the results…people from around the world could check the socks online in a close up image and start posting single socks around the globe and we could actually match them all up and maybe world peace would be next?

I can’t even begin to imagine where my odd socks went, they must technically be somewhere IN THIS HOUSE…because no one would come home with one sock or go out wearing odd socks…or lets assume I lost one or two on travels…but not fucking 120 ! That’s impossible…

I have checked in Ashley’s room as that is the main focus of our investigation, her room could possibly be hiding Osama himself –under the mass of clothes and strewn paperwork, shoes, make-up, camera equipment and boxes of sentimental shite that she stores. We did a thorough search and we only found five and guess what THEY WERE ODD and MATCHED NONE of the ones we had in the laundry basket!

So there we have it people….lets get together and unite all the socks in the world and bring them back together….or maybe I should start writing my new book and stop finding socks and getting into my other strange hobby of taking pictures of Trainspotters…..I DO…I have 49 pictures of ‘Trainspotters’ standing on cold train stations.

I am A TRAINSPOTTER SPOTTER! How crazy is that? I take photos of them on my phone as I pass through various stations on my travels! It annoys them and they all huddle together and avoid me. A bunch of fat men wearing acrylic and woollen jumpers, holding expensive cameras – getting excited at engines makes me giggle.

None of the Trainspotters are WOMEN…you know why? Because I don’t ANY woman who would give up her weekend to stand on a cold rainy Midlands train station to write down the number of any fucking train or waste time taking pictures of them ! We are too busy counting socks that are odd and taking pictures of them.