Tuesday, October 16, 2007

The Pong

All right, you lovely folks who live where soccer...er... excuse me, FOOTBALL is as ubiquitous as baseball is here... I need your help. I need your help with... the Pong.

Yes, that's right, that's what I said. The Pong.

It's the shin guards and the cleats. Oh my gods, they have like... a life of their own. I've tried Febreeze, and the Pong takes the Febreeze by the neck and beats the shit out of it. After a game, when my kids take off their socks, shin guards, and cleats, the Husbandly One and I frantically roll down the windows and hang our heads outside while our eyes water and our lungs try to escape our bodies. Dear Merlin in the Summerland, it's... it's... awful. Please, please, please tell me y'all have a solution that doesn't involve a bonfire?

Or a flamethrower? HazMat suits?

Can I just throw the shinguards in the washing machine? Alone? I mean, I don't want to pass the Funk along, if you know what I mean. But...their shoes, oh, geez.... it's just... horrifying.

I don't think there's enough deoderizer on the PLANET!!! The Pong is starting to take over. The cleats and shinguards are no longer welcome in the house.


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