Friday, March 4, 2016
Sometimes the Unfairness Of It All would torment him, but Cruz would NEVER Hate-Fuck Sex Sock.
Ted Cruz strikes me as the kind of guy who has steadfastly remained loyal to his high school Sex Sock.
Washed gently in the sink with Woolite, softly patted dry: always.
Special place in the bureau drawer. Unfolded, atop a classic white handkerchief.
It reminds him that he is an Outsider, baby, an Outsider: he is the same boy who no one would even think of fucking, but Sex Sock was always there.
Sex Sock will ALWAYS be there.
After winning a debate the losers would go off to parties; Cruz would simply celebrate, in private, upstairs, with Sex Sock.
Sometimes the Unfairness Of It All would torment him, but Cruz would NEVER Hate-Fuck Sex Sock: it would not be good for the longevity of the cotton / polyester blend. Cruz, always thinking forward.
Sure, he has thought of rolling it up and shoving it in the mouth of a naked woman or two, a runaway maybe, but those were just Thoughts. Ted Would Not Do That. Sex Sock would not want it that way.
Still, things could have been different. Without his inner resilience Ted could've ended up being that Creepy Texas Drifter in a White Van with No Windows on the Back, just following girls home from school down dusty Texas roads, him and Sex Sock, cruising in the woozy heat.
Also: Argyle. Of course.
I am Laslo.