It’s almost the end of “socks-and-crocs” season. The dogs are relieved.

I can soon pull out my flip-flops with the beer opener in the sole. For emergency beer-opening assistance.

Next year I will buy a new pair of crocs. I’m going to get a green pair. So somebody will kiss me on St. Pat’s Day.

Christ, this old pair is some embarrassing shit. I mean, that’s what makes them embarrassing. That they’re so freakin’ old. Right?



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