Dearest Peeps,
So I get silly on Tuesdays, and for that I do humbly apologize (or would, had I even the most elementary sense of propriety), and rather than waste valuable time and space with meaningless ramblings, I'd like to devote a moment to the plight of the toothpaste and shaving cream products at my local supermarket.
See, while truly caustic, horrible substances like bleach and silver polish, and Clamato juice (the ones that perforate esophaguses and sicken us with their fumes) are allowed to party wild and free upon the supermarket shelves where anyone can access them, the truly innocuous consumer goods like toothpaste and shaving cream are kept under lock and key in prisons with sliding glass walls. These locked display cabinets from which shoppers can extricate their intended purchase only through the assistance of a store employee with a key, mortify the toothpaste and shaving cream therein, dooming them without a trial, singling them out and subjecting them to the eternal castigation of the other personal hygiene products. So I've written this protest song on behalf on these persecuted toiletries in the hope that one day they may rise and take their rightful place alongside their free brethren. Sing it with me:
Oh, give me a home,
Where the Pepsodent roams;
Where the Crest and the Barbasol play...
Where you'll know no such trouble...
As gingivitis or stubble...
And the smiles just keep gleaming all daaay...
...TOLD you I get silly on Tuesdays...but if you've read this far, you must be as bored as me, in which case, drop me a line...
So I get silly on Tuesdays, and for that I do humbly apologize (or would, had I even the most elementary sense of propriety), and rather than waste valuable time and space with meaningless ramblings, I'd like to devote a moment to the plight of the toothpaste and shaving cream products at my local supermarket.
See, while truly caustic, horrible substances like bleach and silver polish, and Clamato juice (the ones that perforate esophaguses and sicken us with their fumes) are allowed to party wild and free upon the supermarket shelves where anyone can access them, the truly innocuous consumer goods like toothpaste and shaving cream are kept under lock and key in prisons with sliding glass walls. These locked display cabinets from which shoppers can extricate their intended purchase only through the assistance of a store employee with a key, mortify the toothpaste and shaving cream therein, dooming them without a trial, singling them out and subjecting them to the eternal castigation of the other personal hygiene products. So I've written this protest song on behalf on these persecuted toiletries in the hope that one day they may rise and take their rightful place alongside their free brethren. Sing it with me:
Oh, give me a home,
Where the Pepsodent roams;
Where the Crest and the Barbasol play...
Where you'll know no such trouble...
As gingivitis or stubble...
And the smiles just keep gleaming all daaay...
...TOLD you I get silly on Tuesdays...but if you've read this far, you must be as bored as me, in which case, drop me a line...