Shouldn't touch you with a 98 1/2 pole. . .

I only have a washer right now. I used to have a dryer. But it was involved in a bad day called the "Dryer Fire" of a bad week called "Can't I Have a Break?!", in which it started on fire and scorched the wall, made a lot of smoke, and fire, melted some linoleum and set the smoke detectors off and freaked out my nice neighbor. So I didn't bring that dryer to Kentucky. For now, I wash my clothes in the washer at my house and the cart them to the high class laundering facility near me where the smell of smoke never drifts to the non smoking section of the establishment and no children ever run laundry carts around the laundry aisles.

Monday I attempted to dry everything I owned that I'd washed. Although taking things outside to the laundromat to become dry in the pouring rain does make you question if you could have timed things better. They were wet when I took them, but the fact that for most of the time almost all the water in the world seemed to be coming down made me question how effective it was that I was going to run 4 baskets of clean DRY clothes into my car.

I did a few towels and when I put them away I noticed something silky, and figured that I had just washed and dried a half slip accidentally with them. I thought nothing of it.

Until yesterday, when I was getting out a dish towel. I picked up the slip and found this-

Yeah. NOT A SLIP. GIGANTIC GRANNY PANTIES BELONGING TO SOMEONE ELSE.

I need a dryer.