Okay, now you all realy got me going on this women thing. Laundry!!!. Yup, I don't do it but I would if asked but I do hang it up on the line and here is where the real rub is: The P-Vine, I mean my friend's wife, is of Irish descent and thinks that there are clothes line monitors that come around an' grade you on yer danged clothes line skills. These grades are forwarded off to St. Peter who pulls them up on Judgement Day and is atnding therre at the danged Pearly Gate with a thick three ring binder filled with these clothes lines reports...

"Ahhhh, we're rea; sorry, Bobert, but yer gonna have to do a couple hunner years on the pergatory bench fir hangin' the teeshirts from the top rather than the bottom. And here's another report where the socks weren't hung in matching pairs. That's gonna cost youa couple more hundred years! And look at this bed sheet... And pants are hung from the waist part down rather than the cuffs... Hummmm, as long as yer gonna have on the bench you might as well just pick Hell because they can take you right away... Awwwww, what's this? Hmmmmm. we see you were a blues player, too! We'll call down for them to come up and get you. Sorry. Better luck in the next life..."

I mean, gol danged! Is this az woman thing too. Heck, like who cares as long as the stuff dries. Ain't like a sock ain't gonna dry 'cause its a black sock and is pinned with a blue one. Right?

Black sock to Bobert: "I ain't dryin' 'cause I don't particularly like the company... You know how them blue socks is. Never matching nuthin' and think they're so danged purdy. Nope, I ain't dryin' fir nuthin'...."

Nevermind...

Bobert