The #3 item that was hardly in demand at Mecca when I began my servitude 23 years ago, but now leaves the store in cart(buggy/trolley)loads are those fucking plastic and metal “hydration” tumblers that rose to prominence as soon as I found my way to the Housewares department four years ago. Like last week’s air mattress entry, this is another former camping essential that somehow became a huge everyday hipster badge. Apparently, people are afraid to travel even ten feet from home without 40 fluid ounces of Evian (spelled Naive in reverse, spoiler alert!) on ice in a metal can that will stay cold through global warming. Somehow, these things have even survived the beverage refill ban that’s been in effect for fifteen months to continue flying off the shelf faster than I can unstock their tightly packed and environmentally unfriendly cases. And no doubt, by the end of the century, there will be about 16 billion fucktons of Bubba cups and Bubba cup wannabes clogging up our landfills once Mother Nature’s finally decided she’s had enough of our materialistic shit…
If I sound a bit extra ranty, I’ve been nursing an infected and swollen lymph gland in my upper leg for five days now that’s rendered me about as mobile as a turd in a urinal, and sucked out my ability to concentrate on much of anything (thus why I was very scarce other than that stockpile of scheduled posts that made you think I was alive and hunky dory). And yes, it’s completely my fault for ignoring the obvious signs a second time until it was too late. But I must carry on with my Share Your World duties…. even if it kills me and you only get a cheap laugh out of it.
What’s one question you wish more people asked you?
Would you like to have this wad of money I have in my hand?
Do you like eggs? What’s your favorite way to have them served?
No. I only buy eggs to batter fried chicken. I’ll tell you my favorite egg story, though…
One of the reasons I have the rather questionable palate I possess is because my Mom wasn’t much of a cook. She nearly burned down the apartment we lived in when I was 2 by forgetting to turn off the stove. Most of her food was either raw or overly well done (I gained a very big preference for the latter). But she tried. One time, she made a pan of brownies for us. I remember it was me, my youngest sister and Dad who started eating them. It wasn’t long before we all noticed a very, very, VERY foul smell. Apparently, my Mom didn’t do a very good job of beating the eggs in the batter, because as we investigated the rest of the pan, we found HUGE chunks of cooked egg yolk scattered throughout it! And because we’re the family we are, we never let my Mom live that one down…
Thoughts on scary movies?
ZEEBA: YES!!!! THEY RULE!!!! BLOOD SPILLING EVERYWHERE!!!!!! CUT OUT THEIR HEART!!!! SLASH THEIR HEADS OPEN!!!! STAB THEM IN THE BALLS!!!!!!!! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD! BLOOD!
Unfortunately, I’ll have to disagree with Zeeba on the bloodfests (But I sure wasn’t going to tell her she couldn’t have her say). I’m not really a fan of movies in general, but I loved The Twilight Zone, and there was a lot of suspense with a dash of horror in many of those shows.
Do you believe in Karma?
Ha! I unintentionally referenced the classic TZ episode “Time Enough At Last,” and when I featured a post on five of my favorite TZ life lessons seven (!!!) years ago, my lesson for that one was “Karma’s a bitch!”
The truth is, no, I don’t believe there is such a thing as karma. It’s all random, and while some people will naturally appear to get their comeuppance, many others won’t. Or at least not spectacularly. If it were true, at least one of the many thousands of speeders who’ve flown by me on the road, often dangerously, would have been later encountered by me getting a ticket on the side of the road.
At this moment, what you are most grateful for?
That the new schedule we started in March gives me three days to get rid of this gourd at the top of my leg. Because I’ll be damned if I’m missing another night of work…