"He wrote about my boots. Foot ware. Seriously!" I laughed and my girlfriend looked at me like I was crazy.
I continued, "My shoes rarely fit my outfit. Back then, I had these busted up, repainted seven times shit stomping boots. I've still got 'em but they're painted white now. They're awesome. Anyhow. Now, I've got this shiny pair of black shoes, but I'm wearing rumpled cargo khaki and a purple button down, and my undershirt doesn't fit quite right, either."
"You're a mess, you know that?"
"Yes. Today, so we could eat, and have gas money, I donated plasma."