That ellipsis means "I know some of you are singing right now and I don't want to have any part in it."
Per usual beginning-of-school rush, I had to pay some extra money to ensure that my jeans would arrive at four o'clock on the day before school started. Naturally, in my stupor (when this happened, I interpreted it as euphoria) I tried them on and, after being reassured that they fit, lay them out on my desk.
You can probably imagine how the first day of school went, because I presume everyone else has the same sort of first day of school. (Except that maybe other people are nicer because in their distant land people change over the summer.)
Two days later, once it was the weekend and I was lazing around the house in my nicest clothes (read: skirts) the damage I had wreaked began to sink in.
Tally of things I turned blue:
--My socks. (many pairs)
--My Converse. (inside and out)
--My hands.
--My bedspread.
--My sheets.
--My desk calendar.
--My shirt.
--Parts of the couch.
--Some clean laundry.
--My backpack.
ALWAYS WASH THE JEANS. ALWAYS.
