Ruminations 5.0

My apologies for the lack of posts recently, but amidst work and writing for legitimate sources that people actually read, I have been a wee bit busy. Combine this with the fact that sometimes I would just rather curl up by the fire and write compelling and emotive teen dramas that focus on the hardships of being a young vampire - it's understandable why I sometimes allow a few days to pass between entries.

As a means of placating my rabid fan base, I return with a few points littered with the common vitriolic rage and angst you've come to love and yearn for.

I'm certain everyone has noticed the proliferation of smaller bottle caps during the last few years. These pathetic, flimsy lids are now used by several North American flat-water companies as a means of using less packaging, and as a result doing their part to lessen the environmental impact of plastic water bottles.

Ideally, an alternative to plastic water bottles could be found, considering it's an object that is surely not recycled enough for a variety of reasons, rarely reused by consumers and often left in the sun or the trunks of cars to depreciate the value and subsequently, the shelf-life of the bottle. Until a practical alternative is discovered for massive and mobile application, we are stuck with the plastic bottle.

The problem with these new bottle caps is that they are a royal pain in the ass to screw back-on the bottleneck. It often takes a half-dozen tries to turn the cap clockwise and actually have it follow the threading on the bottle. If I had a dollar for every time I threw a bottle in my bag only to find that I had not properly screwed the lid back on properly, I would be rich and not have so many tattered manuscripts of my collection of stories centered-around a mysterious teen heartthrob with a secret: he's a vampire werewolf!!!

Holy fuckin' run-on sentence. Yes I'm aware. I do occasionally proof-read items. Now for a Seinfeldian moment of reflection - What's the deal with 'centered-around'? How can something be centered, yet around? Am I missing something? Considering I'm such a literal person and a stickler for the incorrect usage of terms, I have even surprised myself today.

Anyways, where were we? Right, bottle caps. I appreciate the efforts being made by some companies to reduce their carbon footprints or whatever the fuck it is, but if it inhibits the efficacy of the product, there should be an eventual decline in sales as a result, and everybody wins. Everybody but the suits who drink San Pellegrino anyways.

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Speaking of San Pellegrino - oh how I enjoy the taste of your carbonated waters and delightful flavored drinks. Their Chinotto is second to none. The other night I stumbled upon an episode of Mythbusters on the Discovery Channel. It was a coincidence that they were discussing myths concerning deposits left by critters on the tops of soda cans, since my friend proposed the very same idea earlier in the week (if you think that's irony - stop reading this blog.) My friend seemed to think that some high percentage of soda cans have traces of rat urine and feces on the lids. I'm under the impression that drinking out of these cans may explain the bizarre taste of Mountain Dew, but leave it to the Mythbusters nerds to find the truth.

Truth be told, instead of sticking with the Mythbusters for the duration of the show, I flipped over to some reality show about fat people crying that really made me want Burger King.

Regardless of what conclusion the two nerds came to, I have now developed an aversion to drinking out of soda cans. I would like to point-out that several varieties of delicious San Pelligrinos can be found in cans, with a paper doily adhered to the top of the can to protect us from the nasty-ass bacteria left by a rat taking a crunch on your can of Faygo.

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Finally, something along the lines of my prior post concerning the death of UNICEF collections in Canada.

Does anybody trust little kids selling chocolate? I do not. Especially since these chocolates are typically 5 bones a pop for a generic, brand-less bar of shitty-ass chocolate and third-world almonds. I know you're gonna buy the new Air Jordans with the proceeds you collect from selling this garbage. Who do you think you're fooling? And where the fuck are these kids' parents?

In fighting the urge to make a generalization - I have failed, however more often than not, I will see some black or latin-american child no more then ten years old walking door-to-door selling these chocolates. I admire their courage and the size of their balls (metaphorically of course, unless one has a varicolcele or hydracele - look it up you ignorant bastards, but essentially they are inner-testicular growths), but always end up empathizing with these kids.

I guess what I'm saying is that I don't trust the kids or the chocolate, but at the same time I feel bad whenever I see these kids peddling their shit. The pity I feel for these children outweighs my dislike for the wares their selling - it just saddens me to see it. I'll be dammed if I ever purchase said chocolates, but I would not hesitate to buy the kid a San Pellegrino and smoke him a joint.