Talkin' Shit About A Pretty Sunset

Dearest H & M Special denims,

You stuck with me through thick and thin. When no other pair of jeans would help me with a massive house painting job, you were there. Throughout the years, you allowed me to receive numerous compliments from numerous ladies about how good you looked on me. You endured. When I had grease all over my hands and nowhere to wipe them, where did I go? I did not reach for the rag or the paper towel, but for you, my friend.

And when you got your first hole, you and I did not complain; we trudged on. Your downfall were the holes that formed in the crotch. We battled all the jokes and nagging from the wife, but we persisted to this day, crotch holes and all. But those holes grew to an unaccpetable point where my twig or berries pushed through at times. And now we must part ways.

Today is your final day. You will retire to a landfill to have your buttons picked at by birds and your fibers destroyed by worms and time.

I salute you, my Favorite Pair of Jeans.

- LB