From left to right: moonshine, TaB, and piss.
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…
At least get a real cup if you’re gonna haul around your own potables.
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.
Questions, as always, by Melanie….
No axial tilt…. no summer.
What’s one question you wish more people asked you?
Would you like to have this wad of money I have in my hand?
Ah, a Nest classic!
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…
Nothing wrong with that, now. Bottoms up!
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.
Buster Bemis, the last critter on The Shelf.
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.
I do believe in Karma Chameleon, however…
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…
I guess I can always ask for a reasonable accommodation…
Evil Squirrel's Nest 
I would love if someone would ask me #1 too :O) …and karma is a beach… my and and only try to go to school as a karma chameleon ended with an angry mom who picked me up and 14 …14!!!! days confinement… quasi my whole teenagertime…
Thanks, E.S. for Sharing Your World! About the horror….(and you’ll note that I said suspense, not horror, although the bleed-over (no pun intentionally intended) these days may make that a moot point, but about the horror? I’d say you were provided plenty of that right in SCT…by Zeeba, but also by the gallant Buster, who dies gushing ‘blood’ at least once an episode (if not more times). I cringed at your cooking/egg story, but I understand too. My mother went to the same ‘cooking school’ as yours. The stuff was usually semi-cooked, but mostly uniformly awful. Thank goodness for Chef Boyardee and that Chinese food in a can stuff that was popular in the 70s. We might have starved if it weren’t for ‘open a can and heat it up’ food. And ‘they’ wonder why I have issues with food to this day. I am a fair cook (in my own mind), but I’ve had those kind of horror stories too, the turkey that I never lived down as long as hubby was alive is one such. I hope you do get your leg issues sorted out and I wonder if a trip to the doctor or ER isn’t in order. That sounds rather dangerous besides being painful. Take care!
Get well soon!
Hope you feel better soon!
Oh yeah I have to have my metal drinking glasses with a lid, because I like things to keep cold, and also I’m such a klutz that an open top container will always get spilled. 🙂
Karma’s a bitch and knows where you live. Ever think about that! Just because you don’t believe in her doesn’t mean she can’t track you down.
Feel better LB
Well phooey…hope you get better soon! And then have someone ask you if you’d like a wad of cash. 💵
The Twilight zone was one of my favorites, too. It was so on the edge of this world and the unknown world.
We use lidded coffee cups and drinking “glasses” (but they are plastic all the time because we are BOTH klutzes and can’t afford to replace the computers after we spill crap into the keyboards.
I am so glad I’m not the only child to grow up with a mother who couldn’t cook. My mother’s eggs were disgusting. Either all runny (OH YUCK) or burned. Burned was better than loose, but neither was good and learning to cook was an absolute necessity to surviving childhood.
When ever my mother offered to “start dinner,” the three of us gathered round and said, “No, thanks, we can take care of it!” and we did. A mother who can actually produce an edible meal can totally spoil children.
I reckon me and Zeeba would get on great. Is she… um… seeing anyone at the moment? Um.
I hope you get your leg sorted out.
The leg thing must be miserable…..hope that resolves SOON! Twilight Zone was one of my major favorite shows – gave me plenty of nightmare material back in those days. Guess what – I/we own ZERO plastic containers with lids…..it’s one of the biggest “giveaways” from companies and trade shows/pet shows – I always say “thanks but I have one already”….but I don’t (have one that is!). My Mom was not a good cook but she cooked. We had meatloaf FREQUENTLY (like twice a week) and always had mashed potatoes – like every night. Oh well….we survived!
Pam
Ooh, that egg story! I have a weird thing with eggs—I can eat them thoroughly mixed, like scrambled or in an omelette, but I can’t even look at them cooked separately! And for sharing me bizarre reason, my daughter loves eggs sunny side up, and when she makes them I literally run from the room! Hope you feel better soon!
That woman ei===
That woman in the last photo shouldn’t be allowed anywhere near a food store until she loses at least 250 pounds.