Isn’t there already enough crap in the world? Crap as in stuff. Material things. I can’t stand it. But there’s no stopping it. More junk just keeps getting churned out day after day in hopes that you open your wallet.
Not long ago, if you wanted say, a picture of a cat, you were out of luck. Only a few people even owned a camera. You had to draw it, paint it, or sew it. Now, just imagine how many pictures of cats there are in the world. And how easily you could buy 100’s of them with just the click of your mouse. (Ha, cat and mouse.)
I recently went to the Goodwill, to donate a few bags of things I no longer need, then I went inside to poke around a bit. The loads and loads of crap in there is amazing. Especially all those nick nacks that have no use whatsoever. And not only were they never of any use to the person who once owned them, but they have no use to ANYONE else. Ever. Except to look at them. And dust them off.
Then I thought about all the money that was spent over the years, by all the people, on all this crap. And what GREAT things that money COULD have been used for, collectively, to help people if it had not been wasted on all this nothingness.
If only all useless crap in the world would go away. And all the money in the wolrd was distributed evenly and appropriately. If only.
Have you ever eaten a coconut? I don’t mean pre- sliced, diced, baked, shredded or in anyway already prepared for you. I mean, have you ever taken a full, whole, real coconut and had to open it to eat it? OMG! One of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to do! Well, difficult as far as it goes to JUST GET A MORSEL of something!
I guess that makes me quite a wuss. It’s not like I had to go out and HUNT for days for coconut and then climb a tree with my barefeet. Or follow the herd for weeks and chase them with my bow and arrow, then skin it, and cook it. We’re just talking one little coconut here. And all I had to do to get it was push my cart through Whole Foods.
But that was the only easy part about it. Trying to open it? No way. Couldn’t do it. Instructions are to bang it on concrete. BANG IT ON CONCRETE. Which is great if I’m out in the wild and I could throw it against trees until it opened. But, really? This is the best solution?
I could do some serious damage to my kitchen trying to get this open. I thought about taking my machete from the garage to it. Or my big meat cleaver. But the strength I had to use to actually break through – I could take my whole countertop down with it.
There are three dark, soft indentations on a coconut. Hey! Just like a bowling ball. So that’s where they got the idea for a bowling ball design! =) And one way to get the coconut water/milk out is to take a nail and hammer to it. But that’s if all you want is the water/milk inside.
If you want to eat the meat of the coconut? You have to break it open. Joe ended up getting the power drill out and finding a solution. And it was yummy. But not THAT yummy. I love the IDEA of eating a whole, raw, natural coconut. It just wasn’t that great or worth that much trouble. And cutting the meat off the outer shell once it was open was not easy either. Especially since I can just buy coconut in a million other ways. And none of them require power tools.
I suggest listening to music about coconuts instead. It’s much more enjoyable. And no one will get hurt.
That is not a toothpick holder! A toothpick holder is a little round container that is specifically labeled toothpick holder! You can’t just use anything to hold toothpicks!
I love taking something and making use for it as something it’s not. Mostly just because it’s more fun and interesting. I think another reason is because I hate conforming and buying something just because someone else said I should. Who made up these rules and how did we allow them to seep into our brains without our approval?
Is it just good marketing? A long line of genetic morphing? It’s like thinking that you have to buy a vase in order to display flowers. You can’t put flowers in just anything! It has to be a vase! Or Don’t put the butter in that! What’s wrong with you? Get a proper “butter dish”!
Why? Why do I have to go out and buy something that is specifically labeled “butter dish” or “toothpick holder” or “napkin ring” or “coffee table”? Use anything. Seriously, get creative people!
Life is way more fun and interesting and beautiful when we take a moment and think outside the box.
I’ve always been told I’m an old soul. And someday my exterior will catch up with my interior. It’s inevitable. However, I think I’m an old man soul. So hopefully the catching up doesn’t go quite that far.
I have always felt more like a dude on the inside. Not in a sexual way. Get your mind out of the garbage. But sometimes I feel that I walk like a man, talk like a man. Have the attitude of a man. Anytime I’ve mentioned that to someone, they’ve assured me that I read pure dudette on the outside.
But I have proof. Here’s just a few.
I had more male friends growing up. To me, they were more fun to hang out with because they joked around and gave each other a hard time. In that friendly banter kind of way. I preferred hearing that over “Hi sweeeeetie, where did you get those shoes, they are like sooooo adorable, hey let’s paint each others toes!” I’d puke in my mouth a little, grin and bear it and hope to witness some silly, girlie drama.
As a kid, I never understood the whole playing with dolls thing. Why do we keep re-dressing them in new outfits and pretend their doing things that they’re not? I didn’t get it. But, I did love playing ‘kick the can’ at night with the older kids.
I hate shopping.
My favorite breakfast is what I call ‘the 80 year old farmer’s breakfast’.
Coffe, black. Eggs, up. Bacon, greasy. Toast, well done.
And my inner 80 year old disgruntled man comes out if anyone rubs me the wrong way. (Now, this is a long story, but old men like to tell ’em that way.) I was at the bank depositing checks and the woman teller decided, after 10 years of banking, she would no longer allow me to cash checks made out to Kate Clarke. Nope. Only checks that said my legal birth name, Cathleen Clarke. WHAT? Kate IS Cathleen. Kate is short for Cathleen. So if my legal name was Jacob and someone made a check out to Jake – you wouldn’t let me cash it?
And this, she decides, after I’ve cashed checks for 10 years using both names. Apparently, she felt entitled to make this decision.
So I let her know what an idiot she was how disappointed I was and walked over to one of those suit types. You know who I mean, the ones that sit in cubicles all day pretending to be busy.
My inner 80 year old man took over at this point, starting with “Your little blondie over there has her undies in a bunch. She’s trying to tell me after 60 years 10 years of cashing checks here, she doesn’t like the way it’s done any more. So I need you to take care of this for me, sonny boy.”
One phone call to the legal department and a few clicks on his keyboard and I was back where I’d started. Ha, little blondie, nice try on ruining my day. As I left, I had to hold myself back from shouting “SUCK IT, BLONDIE!”
I opened just a simple checking and savings account at a near by bank. And they sent me all these pamphlets and papers in the mail. Seriously? They couldn’t email me a link to a page on their website with all this info? They send EVERY person who opens an account this much crap? I’m not going to read it. But then, I feel I shouldn’t throw it away. So I’ll go buy another file cabinet just for my new account. Not.
Will someone PLEASE do something about this? Obama? Anyone? Bueller? Why are they giving away whole trees for opening a new account? Or maybe this is what they are doing with all the homes they obtain by foreclosure.
