Thicker Is Not Better

By wr jones

You can tell by the expression of this young lady, unless you are an idiot, that she is fed up with plastic packaging.  I am too.

She is missing her left arm which was lopped off in a chain saw accident while trying to open her new toaster.

All this talk about “Green” is a huge pile of whiffledust.  We keep pouring more and more plastic into the environment.   I don’t really care about the coming ecological disaster, I will be gone.  But someone, say around the age of 3, should be near panic.  If they were smart they would write their congress person to complain.  Assuming, of course, the 3 year old could remove the thick damn plastic from the new pen.

I bought some batteries the other day.  Spent 30 minutes trying to get them out of the pack.  Missed the show I was needing the batteries to watch.  I looked high and low thru the house for an implement to cut through the very hard thick plastic package.  Finally used those chicken scissors that are part of a cutlery set.  Even then it was a struggle.  I expect the next step in the package industry vs consumer war they will move toward a steel box welded shut to hold those paper clips you need for the office.

I can understand this vault type packaging would cut down on the shoplifting of small items.  Hard to hide that watch battery entombed in a body size package you can barely get to the counter with a large cart.

Performance Enhancing

By W. R. Jones

I don’t get what the fuss is about performance enhancing drugs.  Those athletes are doomed to train-wreck bodies anyway.  Do you really give a shit what drugs they take?  If you do simply because they may influence your little Johnny or Mary to imitate their heroes, then you should start a parents against ball players chewing tobacco and scratching their nuts on TV group.  I may join that one myself.

If they had painting enhancing drugs I would take them in a pair of seconds.  I’ve Googled every possible combo looking for such a thing.  If fact I’m surprised they don’t have at least a high cost placebo.   Look at all the ads suggesting 98% of men have limp peckers.  We must have an equally high of  percentage of us that don’t paint all that well.  We  need a drug promising excellent painting results in 90 days; accompanied by TV promos showing suck work before and pieces of great beauty hanging in the Louvre with the painter speaking fluent French (when before the drug they spoke a lower form of Eubonics).

I’ve tried alcohol (more than a few times) all with the same result.  It seems the painting is going swimmingly but the next thing I know I’m waking on the bed with paint loaded brush still in my hand now resting on the pillow next to me.  So far I’ve been lucky in that the brush has always landed on my wife’s pillow.  She will have to check her hair in the morning light for undesired highlights.