Here are some interesting parallels between my shoes and my women:

[chrisrob]

(From "The Nicest Guy and His Lonely Penis" by Phil Torcivia


I admire them even when I can't have them.

I'm overconfident that they'd look better on me.

Some are best at certain events only.

My friends love to criticize mine, but they're just jealous and have awful taste.

I don't let my mother pick them out for me.

Sometimes older ones are softer, more comfortable, and easier to slip in and out of.

Flashy, loud ones are usually more expensive and wear out more quickly.

Ones I find online rarely arrive as advertised.

Athletic ones seem to get dirty more quickly.



Some look incredible but become dull and painful after a few hours.

Some are too narrow or too wide.

I have had my toes curled by a few.

I've been advised to just pick some and take the time to get used to them. But I'm an impatient shopper. I would rather take three home, and return the ones that don't fit right. I do try to return them in original condition but sometimes I leave a scuff or two with my caustic opinions and beliefs. Damaged goods are still goods, right?

Maybe I'm destined to try on dozens because I'm a tough fit. It certainly will be a stretch; lots of flexibility will be required to spend significant time with me. Until I find the right pair, I guess I'll have to toughen up and get used to the occasional pain caused by going without.

[factor-fiction]

Sorry chrisrob but the humour passed me by.

[daftgrandad]

Very amusing !

[sidkid]

Very good