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Holey Friday

April 6, 2012

They say that every day is a life experience. What I want to know is who in the hell is “they” and why don’t “they” say something to you when you’re doing something stupid? If I’m your friend and you’re doing something stupid, I’ll be the first to let you know. If you’re my friend, I will even try to stop you from doing the stupid thing to begin with.

Maybe my friends are blind. Matter of fact, for my sake, let’s go with that theory. Because I can’t imagine in my wildest dreams that I could walk around all day with a hole in the ass of my pants and not a single person would say, “Hey, do you know there’s a hole in the ass of your pants?” Friend or not.

Let us trace my steps for the day. My first stop was an elementary school to drop off my son’s homework that he left at home. Did anyone say anything about the hole in the pants of my ass? No. But I didn’t expect as much since the secretary hates everyone who breathes oxygen. OK, check.

Next stop — local garage to get new tires. I don’t know about you, but if I’m paying butt-loads of money to get new tires, I’d appreciate a “Hey, did you know there’s a hole in the ass of your pants?” No wonder all the guys in the shop were looking at me. And here I thought it was my perfume.

Off to lunch with my BFF. Did she notice the hole in the ass of my pants? No. Is she blind? Possibly. Fridays usually mean Drunk Lunch for us, but we went to a place that doesn’t have lunch time cocktails. Maybe if we had gone to a place with cocktails, she would have noticed the hole in the ass of my pants.

After our non-Drunk Lunch we headed out to the Amish store. Yes, I walked into the Amish store with a hole in the ass of my pants. I even bought two bags of those yucky dried marshmallows you find in the Lucky Charms cereal. I didn’t buy them because they are yummy and I can’t live without them. I bought them because I’m tired of paying $3+ for a box of Lucky Charms cereal to find that the only thing the kids eat are the freeze dried marshmallows.

Regardless, at that point in my day I was still happy-go-lucky Helle — minding her own business and trying to have fun. So my BFF and I stopped in the local furniture/hardware store (yes, I live in Appalachia) to check out the wares. As if that weren’t enough, we then went to the local watering hole to have a few cold brews. After three hours there, nobody realized I had a hole in the ass of my pants. Really?

When I got back to my BFF’s house someone finally pointed out the hole in my pants. After that I asked each new person who came to the BFF’s house (yes there were a few; we’re rednecks, a party can happen anytime) each person replied within 5 seconds or less that there was a hole in the ass of my jeans.

All I can say is that I just happen to be lucky enough to match my undies with the shirt I was wearing that day. It was pure stinking luck — luck that I wasted on a matching T and undies instead of winning the damn Mega Millions.

Maybe the winner will buy me a new pair of Levi’s.

One Comment leave one →
  1. Randle permalink
    April 6, 2012 2:47 pm

    Good grief… THIS is the infamous hole!??? Shucks, I was thinking something provocative and suggestive. Something that would fuel the imagination. Something that would raise hubby’s…eyebrow. Even cause him to take out the trash and massage Your feet.

    But this… it’s just a hole…

    *teasing wink*

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