Socks and Heat Stroke

Fuck my socks! Against my better judgment, I wore matching sock again. What can I say? I love to gamble. This time, instead of white, I sported bright red SRAM socks. Apparently red is the color of such things like fire, chili peppers, and my sunburned skin after racing at Dawg Days Circuit race in Bowie. I know it's summer, but I can't help but think that my sock choices determine the weather. Mismatched socks usually call for mild or mildly confusing weather. It's not uncommon to experience passing partly cloudy skies, comfortable temperatures, and a slight drizzle, flurry, or tornado in mismatched socks. White socks call for rain. They don't like staying white and as such will have you experiencing drenching showers and wet roads only to have the weather clear up just enough to ride your bike and get everything, socks included, covered in a layer of filth. Red is apparently the color of heat stroke. In anticipation of this sock-induced inferno, I packed a cooler with drinks and lots of ice. I filled up a clean sock with ice and used it to cool down and sponge off the sweat and salt from the day's efforts. I probably looked retarded rubbing a tube sock all over myself, but at the time I could have cared less. I contested the race's first prime (y'know, the one that no one really wants) and went to collect my prize. I was offered a gift certificate to a farmer's market I've never heard of but chose to substitute it for a nice pair of highly coveted white GamJams socks. I'd say that a real man doesn't measure the cuff length of his cycling socks, but that's before I measured mine in at a very cool, Extra Pro five inches! Thanks GamJams!