Sock It

Along with Father's Day, it's also my birthday today. I turned 23, which is kind of depressing. Sure, I got some sweet presents, like the Bargearse/Olden Days DVD and the 24 DVD BOARD GAME~!, but I also bought myself socks for my Dad to give me. Socks.

Socks.

I didn't even realise what I was doing. I needed some new socks and a new belt for work, so I bought them. Then I thought 'Hey, I can scam these as a birthday present so I don't have to pay for it'. I never even considered the connotation.

And, at that precise moment, my young life was over. I had voluntarily received socks as a present. In another timeline, 10-year old Tommy is slapping the shit out of 23-year old Tommy.

Life has a way of reinforcing its point, just in case you missed it the first time. So, even if I hadn't realised then that buying socks for my birthday was the beginning of a miserable, perpetual cycle of horrible presents, the universe was making sure I got it by the time I turned 23 for good. Because this morning, I unwrapped another present to find these:




Kill me.