I’ve said this before, but it bears repeating: Not every stupid purchase I’ve made has an interesting story. 

Every once in a while, a cigar is really just a cigar. Sometimes it’s a crochet top.

You know what I’m saying?

I literally have nothing profound or even vaguely curious to say about this thing, so instead I offer you this haiku:

I hate this damned top.

I wore it once and that’s all.

I blame the scallops*.


*If you didn’t have to count every syllable out on your fingers, we can’t be friends.