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.