Sunday, June 5, 2011

Ode to the Sloan Robe

Oh Sloan Robe, sear sucker and periwinkle blue.
You no doubt once were soft and bluer,
But after so many washes you're kinda rough,
And not quite so periwinkle, just a dull blueish now.
Sometimes you are big enough to cover my huge ass,
Sometimes you are so small I worry that my big ole low boobs will swing out and traumatize my father.
I'm so glad I always get to wear pants with you, or everyone in my general area would have PTSD from seeing my thighs.
I love when I am in a waiting room with other patients, we all kinda look like we're in One Flew Over the Cuckoos Nest.
I keep waiting for a Native American to throw a water fountain through a wall and set us all free.
But at least the nurses are nicer than Nurse Ratched.
Oh Sloan Robe, I bet Sloan pays a fortune for you.
I oddly love you.

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