I bought boots yesterday. Not cowboy shit kickers, but engineer boots, a.k.a motorcycle boots. Many moons ago, I had used to wear some, but technically, the were my brother's. He called me on that technicality, and now those guys are in Colorado. It took me this long to get my own, but I finally got 'em. And this makes me happy.

There is something innately satisfying with boots. I think that this is because they make the wearer feel like a bad ass. Not that there is any significant correlation between bad-assness and bootness, but chi square must drop down a few points. Ignore that last sentence if you don't know stats. I think I just lost any gains to my bad-assness by writing that.

Ahem. Anyhow, boots are nifty. If you happen to find yourself getting a pair, I learned a useful trick you should know. If you can't slip on your boot, try it again with a plastic bag around your foot. I tell ya, it works better than a shoehorn. It is like you are wearing butter socks, just without all the mess. Those guys in shoe stores know what they are talking about. I bet you could talk to them for hours about the art of stringing your shoelaces in new and creative ways.