Sometimes life hands you things to deal with, and the experience is like taking things out of the dryer. You swore you didn't turn those pants inside out; but there they are, and you imagine the little dryer gremlin who steals just one sock, tumbling around with your clothes, grabbing at the pants legs, and grinning like a Cheshire Cat.
Enough of this Life-Is-Like-A-Box-Of-Chocolates crapola. It is never that sweet or sublime. Just about the time that you think you get it all figured out-wham, here comes the inside-out-back-to-front thing complete with bellybutton fuzz. Life is more like the first few stanzas of a Charles Ives composition--just before you can make out the tune--the discord and imblalance makes you just a little bit nuts!
I think that I would like to go a whole week with everyone wearing their clothes just the way they come out of the dryer. The mere act would unpomp the pompous, humble the haughty, and add a touch of human interest to us all.
For example, knowing that (fill in the blank) was wearing his briefs insideout (if he doesn't go commando), might give us all something to smile about.
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