See that last line? From whence did that come? That is just what popped into my mind. You can see at this point I am experiencing the free empowerment (read, lack of interesting, relevant things to say) that blogging bestows upon its filthy man- and woman-children.
But seriously, do you guys think about products? For example, upon examination of a chapstick label, I noticed the directions were: "Apply freely to affected parts." Which, I think we can all agree, is pretty jim-dandy of them. However, the very next sentence says, "Warning: Use only as directed." Now, I consider myself a fairly imaginative fellow (Look! That penguin is about to attack! Never mind, it is just a stuffed sheep with a poor constitution.), however I cannot think of even one way in which the chapstick can be used in a way in which it has not been directed! It would be one thing if the directions suggested that the lip balm should be used sparingly; then I can see someone trying their luck and putting on three, maybe four layers of soothing balm on the affected area (you're a loose cannon and we don't have any place for you on this force). However, the directions say to "Apply freely to affected parts." Can someone help me out on this? I mean, is anyone actually tempted to use this cylinder of lip (and possibly other location) comfort in a way in which it is not directed? Maybe the makers just really don't want you oiling your gun with it.
Still on products, can you imagine the amount of work it takes to enjoy the things that you take for granted? (Many authors would have said "you and I," rather than just "you," but in this case, you're the only one of the two of us who takes these things for granted. If I took them for granted also, it is likely that I would not have dedicated what is now three sentences, and will probably be more, to the subject. So there. Think twice before you judge me, Judgey McJudgerson). For example, the idea of shoes blows my mind. I don't have anywhere near the capacity to design and construct my own shoes! I'm not very good at sewing (rephrase: I don't think I would be very good at sewing. I shouldn't write myself off as a poor sewer, but considering my hesitancy to try. . . . I am not sure I would even want to find out I was good at sewing, because of all the new responsibilities, not to mention the knowledge that I have such a skill! That's like accidentally finding out that human ears taste fantastic. It's like, "Great, now I gotta think about this every time I meet somebody new."). And really, to manufacture my own shoes would be just way too hard. I mean, I don't even know any orphans!
I could make a table if I had to. And, I have made one. A pretty good one, thanks for asking. It's a bit of a Frankentable, being that the other constructors and I stole its body parts from roughly five other once glorious tables.
When is the last time you made something for yourself? And I don't mean food or some papier mache piece of trash. I mean, I turned a book into a clock. What's up? (that last line was meant to be a somewhat threatening boast. It isn't an actual question regarding the occurrences in your life. But if you inclined to answer that question, please do so . . . but on your own time.)
Well, this is probably the last blog I write for at least a week (many of you are thinking, "Ben, it has been more than a week than your last blog. Believe it or not, you conceited sack o' dirt, we can survive without your arbitrary thoughts for a couple of days." If that is the case, and you are one of those who feel this way, I clearly was not writing that line of warning for you. I, rather, was writing it for the smaller group of people who were thinking, "A whole week?!? Oh, let me take hold of something sturdy for I feel faint! Will the sun still shine??" [delusion: possibly the REAL word of the day?]), on account of the fact that I will be doing some traveling. I am going to Florida to visit my brother. Please note that I did not give the exact location in Florida. Although it is unlikely that at this current stage in my career (and my CLEAR lack of popularity in the "Blogosphere" [yeah, that's a real word bloggers. Keep trying to make up a language, because it is working]) that I have gained any stalkers, I still want to leave a little bit of sport to the act of finding me and trying to keep a little part of me in their closet (please, not the liver).
I'll tell you this last bit for free: I just read the history of the MoonPie. What a fascinating snack that is. When I say I read the history, what I mean is I looked at the first two pages, then said, "There's more?!?" and acted like I had read the rest. Seriously, too much information about a graham cracker and marshmallow snack. Try to get through it yourself. You may be asking for a MoonPie to squelch your growing blood-sugar deficiency problem, such a long read it is. And no, MoonPie did not pay me for that glowing review.
"Oh, you tracked mud in the house again, Georgie!"
-(believed by some to have been said by) Martha Washington, grandmotherly wife of first president of the United States of America; she has a big boat named after her.
I feel faint. How dare you?
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