Life in the Socks of Lenar

I know, it sends chills down your spines (click on the archive and try to find his welcome post) even with the picture, but I am still surviving the so called "sockmagician's" uncleanliness. If you want me to refresh your memory, here are his socks:

Now, in his welcome post, I gave you a vague impression of what life was like under these dirty and annoying socks. But let's take a closer look. Lenar is just now turning 18, but he lives with his mother. His mother is addicted to cleaning the house, it is a daily chore. She gets every room of the house, but Daniel Lenar's. Want to know why? Let's see a picture.

I think you understand why mrs. Clean stays away from this room. She even put a sign on the door. Here is a pic of it:



Now, guess where I live? That's right, I live in the desk drawers. That is where Lenar's clothing lives. Four measly little drawers, imagine life in them? I'll give you a hint: BAD. In order from top to bottom, the drawers are as follows. Shirts, Pants, Speedos, and Socks. But, I often end up in the Speedo door, which scares me half to death every time (Lenar doesn't wash these either). But what does my home look like? Hairy. OH, you mean the drawer? Well, look at the picture above. As you can see, Lenar has a strange taste in socks. I live in the only "Normal" pair, but can't escape the dirtiness. Now, let me walk you through the "average" day of Daniel Lenar (If he chooses my pair from the drawer.

It all starts in the afternoon (yes I said afternoon), when Lenar wakes up. After 10 lazy minutes of absolutely nothing, Lenar decides to get out of bed. The first thing Lenar does in the morning is check on his "precious" socks (rememember, he calls himself a sockmagician). After choosing a pair, which is me for this demonstration, he walks out of his room into the kitchen, where his mom is waiting with eggo waffles. "Oh goody!" Lenar says as he jumps into his seat and starts stuffing the waffles into his mouth.

After eating, Lenar goes back into his room and takes his laptop to a cleaner area (aka, the living room) where he sits in comfort and helps moderate the chat rooms and forums of powersoccer as I, on his feet, battle dust bunnies and fleas.

This sock magician isn't really caring is he? After Powersoccer, Lenar takes the train to his Uncle's town (no he does not wear his shoes; Lenar also lives on a dirt road). After that, he walks over to his Uncles farm to do some, gee I don't know, farming! Walking through the fields he DOES NOT watch his step, meaning that I get covered with dirt, mud, and (you guessed it) poop. By that time, I am breathing very heavily, wondering how I am still alive. To my misery, I always seem to survive. Can you blame me? Look at this farm!



After Lenar's farming rounds he heads back, eats dinner and goes to see the Chicago Cubs play (Yes he finally wears shoes). Lenar hops into his 1970s Volkswagen which is worse than his room, and drives towards Cubs stadium. After several breakdowns and a ticket, Lenar arrives at Cubs stadium. There is another adventure for me waiting.
At the game, Lenar takes three big hops at ever pitch. Lenar does not put down his popcorn, which he is holding with a baseball glove. Whenever a ball is hit, whether is the the complete opposite side of the field, Lenar hops up, drops his popcorn, and dashes that direction to try to catch it. Then, after Lenar comes back panting, he scoops up the popcorn that has fallen on the ground and shoves some into his mouth. Then comes the soda, which Lenar mishandles (at least once every game) and spills. Guess where it lands? Wrong! The ground! But it also gets on me :(
This is a repeating cycle each inning, and it is just another horror to living in Lenar's socks.

When Lenar gets home, he goes on powersoccer again, until he falls asleep in his chair. When he wakes up at 4 in the morning, he crawls into his bed and sleeps like a log until the next afternoon.
This is all a repeating process of Lenar each day.

All in all, life in Lenar's socks is... ok! Especially when he bribes me to leave :D. I hate being dirty I hate the stress, but I love to annoy him :) So it all balances out. Just remember that if you visit Chicago, BEWARE OF LENAR!


Signing out from (you guessed it, your good at guessing!) Lenar's socks,

~duke