The Dirty Jobs gig continues … and today is all about me and my creature comforts — or lack thereof!

Okay … so like I bought what I thought were the most awesome work boots to get me through this season of manual labor and supplemental cash flow. But little did I know …

My almost new, steel-toe Dickies work boots actually are not boots at all. They must be in fact, the place where “bad little piggies” go to burn in eternal damnation. Toe-ment, I call it!

I literally have 5-6 blisters on each foot (that’s about a dozen for those scoring this at home). I kid you not — one of the blisters is the size of a Susan B. Anthony dollar on my heel.

The blisters on my toes might be that big too, if my hammer toes were just a little wider …

What’s the old saying?: “My dogs are barking!”  And this is not week one, the point where one might expect some discomfort.  I have worn these boots on location in Dallas, Philly, Fargo, Cleveland and more …

So, I hate to be hatin on the local Fort Worth players — Dickies Brand — I love me some Dickies hoodies, etc. But man, you need to put a Surgeon General’s warning on those size 11 torture devices.

I mean … water boarding right now would be an enhancement in quality of life, from where I stand.

Know what I sayin?