Got Socks?

Now that I am retired, although it felt alot like getting fired, and I am not sure about ever being rehired, I have started doing a few new things, thinking about fewer new startling things and been thinking about starting to do a few new things, things that involve fire. (Cooking?)

I have started working on learning the Gettysburg Addresses. I am about half way finished. Since the populations are 558 + 7,490 + 1,352 = 9,400, I know exactly where approximately 4,700 "GbA" people live in 3 different states, Ohio, Pennsylvania, and South Dakota, the ones that have got a burg named a Gettysburg.

I wrote a rough draft for this piece of humor while in the drive up window at the bank a few hours ago. (Actually I just wrote the third line which most of you may happen to recognize the first two lines but because my one MONSTER-o third line is bigger than the first two put together, I can probably legally say its all mine.)

GoSo?

I was sad because I had no shoes.
Then I met a man who had no feet.
Then I was no longer sad. Because I asked him, "say, buddy, you look exactly the same height as me from the ankles up, so I was wondering, before you lost your feet, what size were they? Were they anywhere close to my 11 1/2, 4E Wide and so I was wondering if you happen to have any brand new shoes just laying around you are no longer using from your old longer days, oh yeah, and socks, Got Socks?"

(Did you notice how I chopped the end of the words off in the title?)

So now there will be a plethora of sock advertisers stealing MY new GoSo slogan with super athletes wearing white socks to match their white milk mustache.