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Our Crack Tongue & Groove

socks.jpg What fresh hell is this?
 

According to the press blurb we recently received from The Black Sock Subscription Service: “Men who wear odd socks ruin their chances of gaining a second date” and “9 out of 10 managers stated that if a candidate arrived at an interview wearing odd socks, that would seriously harm their chances of gaining the job”. Well, whoop-de-doo; thanks for that urgent newsflash. They might well have added that men who turn up for a date, or job interview, dressed as Noddy, would also be left whistling Dixie. The answer to the above dilemmas are, of course, easily remedied: Never go for a date or job interview wearing odd socks (or, indeed, dressed as Noddy). And that’s where The Black Sock Subscription Service hope to step in, by mailing you pairs of black socks every month (or every three months, or every six months), thus ensuring you’ll never be caught wearing mismatched socks. But is this what men have become? Creatures so fuppin’ useless that they can’t organise and maintain what I believe fashionistas like to term a “sock drawer”. It’s not as if socks were a rare commodity, only to be found growing on plants that bloom at the source of the Nile. My corner shop sells them. Every shop I can think of in the entire history of retail sells them. For about a quid. It’s not a problem. A new book by Hanna Rosin has just been published in the US which is causing quite a stir, called “The End Of Men”, and if men are now having to resort to sock subscriptions, then I can see their demise hurtling towards us rather quicker than Rosin predicts. RM