Thoughts in Pink Socks

I have a pair of pink socks. They are are too loose, too short, and so fluffy I can't fit my feet into shoes when I wear them. Essentially, the only thing they do well is amuse me. I think of odd things when I wear these socks,

and this page is where I share them with you.

Sometimes, to fight the fire you have to let it burn.

Odd thoughts arrive on their own schedule, and will not be hurried.

If failure had a scent, it would be burned popcorn.

We might as well just officially change the name of the last day of the working week to ‘Fri-YAY’

Wouldn't it be freaky if your cursor suddenly started blinking at you in Morse code?

If a bird is sitting on a branch that is tossing about in the wind, do they think they're surfing?

Thoughts in Pink Socks

Sometimes, to fight the fire you have to let it burn.

Odd thoughts arrive on their own schedule, and will not be hurried.

If failure had a scent, it would be burned popcorn.

We might as well just officially change the name of the last day of the working week to ‘Fri-YAY’

Odd thoughts arrive on their own schedule, and will not be hurried.

Whoever said 'nothing is impossible' never tried to convince cats to take turns.

Harmless office-speak phrase 'be aware', with the removal of one little letter, becomes much more sinister, doesn't it?

I saw a day-planner on sale with a slogan that said ‘Live in the Moment’

That’s a mixed message, no?