everything actually falls on a binary scale of “badass” and “cute” and god punishes me every time I step out of line by being both or neither but I do it anyway this time out of spite
Last week I accidentally took an edible at 10x my usual dose. I say “accidentally” but it was really more of a “my friend held it out to my face and I impulsively swallowed it like a python”, which was technically on purpose but still an accident in that my squamate instincts acted faster than my ability to assess the situation and ask myself if I really wanted to get Atreides high or not.
Anyway. I was painting the wall when it hit. My friend heard me make a noise and asked what was wrong—I explained that I had just fallen through several portals. I realized that painting the wall fulfilled my entire hierarchy of needs, and was absolutely sure that I was on track to escaping the cycle of samsara if I just kept at it a little longer. I was thwarted on my journey towards nirvana only by the fact that I ran out of paint.
Seeking a surrogate act of humble service through which I might be redeemed and made human, I turned to unwashed dishes in the sink and took up the holy weapon of the sponge. I was partway through cleaning the blender when it REALLY hit.
You ever clean a blender? It’s a shockingly intimate act. They are complex tools. One of the most complicated denizens of the kitchen. Glass and steel and rubber and plastic. Fuck! They’ve got gaskets. You can’t just scrub ‘em and rinse them down like any other piece of shit dish. You’ve got to dissemble them piece by piece, groove by sensitive groove, taking care to lavish the spinning blades with cautious attention. There’s something sensual about it. Something strangely vulnerable.
As I stood there, turning the pieces over in my hands, I thought about all the things we ask of blenders. They don’t have an easy job. They are hard laborers taking on a thankless task. I have used them so roughly in my haste for high-density smoothies, pushing them to their limits and occasionally breaking them. I remembered the smell of acrid smoke and decaying rubber that filled the kitchen in the break room the last time I tried to make a smoothie at work—the motor overtaxed and melted, the gasket cracked and brittle. Strawberry slurry leaked out of it like the blood of a slain animal.
Was this blender built to last? Or was it doomed to an early grave in some distant landfill by the genetic disorder of planned obsolescence? I didn’t know, and was far too high to make an educated guess. But I knew that whatever care and tenderness and empathy I put into it, the more respect for the partnership of man and machine, the better it would perform for me.
This thought filled me with a surge of affection. However long its lifespan, I wanted it to be filled with dignity and love and understanding. I thought: I bet no one has hugged this blender before. And so I lifted it from its base.
A blender is roughly the size and shape of a human baby. Cradling one in your arms satisfies a primal need. A month ago I was permitted to hold an infant for the first time in my life, an experience which was physically and psychologically healing. I felt an echo of that satisfaction holding my friend the blender, and the thought of parting with it felt even more ridiculous than bringing it with me to hang out on my friend’s bed.
(American) Tree Law is very satisfying because the cases often involve someone damaging trees that don’t belong to them, usually for an aesthetic, mercenary, petty, and/or spiteful reason. However, American tree law comes down like a HAMMER on such people, and they will get mighty fines. If the tree dies, in fact, they’ll be on the hook to replace the whole thing, and as it turns out, trees ain’t cheap. As the article above summarizes one incident in Reddit terms:
To rephrase it as an AITA post: am I the asshole if I cut down 32 trees on my neighbor’s property, but instead of just charging me a $32,000 fine, now they’re going to make me build a road and find transplanted, equally mature trees to replant?
Tree Law is perhaps one of the few branches (I didn’t even mean that to be a pun) of American law where self-entitled wrongdoers WILL face consequences. NBC Universal wants to maul a row of city-owned ficus trees to deprive striking workers of shade during a heat wave?Oh boy.
you have signed the wizards contract. you have to draw wizard eating cantaloupe
I have done the deed. I hope the Wizard will return for more cantaloupe in my future. Also woohoo I solved a riddle I didn’t know existed! Yippee!!! @wizardsisananimal
Unfriendly reminder that all you idiots being like “yeah just pirate media now, fuck corporations!” posting links and just openly telling people where to download pirated media are why it’s so hard to find safe, working sites for it anymore.
I’ve been doing this shit for over 20 years and the availability has gone down as it’s become more mainstream. The more you publicly talk about all these sites the less there are. Shut up. Tell people in private or don’t tell them at all.
tagged as #suburbs
