Sunday, December 4, 2011

I complain on Sundays...

A gaggle of gripes to satiate your craving for the bitter within me...

Don't act like you're not excited...

This week?

I Don't Want Your Garbage... I Don't Care If It's Free...

There's this thing people do. I mean, if they're NOT hoarders. They call it Spring Cleaning even in the Winter. And even though it should be called Shit Purging. It's a good thing. I'm not knocking "the thing". I fully support and celebrate the conscious exorcism of materialistic overpopulation.

What I DO NOT celebrate, or even tolerate, really, is when said purging concludes with the stacking of useless garbage curbside with a grease stained slab of cardboard that has the word "FREE" scrolled in Serial Killer Font, precariously balanced atop it.

It would be one thing if this shit was worth taking. But it never is. It's always some broke ass tube television or a 1970's era particle board dresser with missing drawers or a cracked mirror.

This is just a clear and shameless demonstration of Sloth. What the sign should actually say is:

It would take a bigger piece of cardboard, but at least it would be honest.

Listen, I don't want your garbage. I don't care if it's free!!!

And while we're on the subject... I also don't want your horse manure, yet there are signs for that on the side of the road as well.

I'm sure it's useful in some circles. I mean, I'd rather put out a bonfire with my face, than have any part of these circles, but I imagine they're out there... It's LITERALLY SHIT, people. "Oh, your animals have produced an obscene amount of feces and you'd like me to come relieve you of some of it, and you're NOT going to charge me?!?!?! Yahtzee!"

And what about paying money for things you can find anywhere for free? Like dirt. Or rocks. Or pine cones. People do this. MY MOTHER does this. She will get in her car, drive to Home Depot and trade cash for dirt. FOR DIRT!

Ma, I gotta tell ya, I have dirt if you want it. I'm fucking swimming in dirt. I track dirt all over my carpet from the bottom of my shoes. I have to wash things to get rid of dirt, I have such a abundance. I can't swing a cat without hitting some kid covered in dirt. There's dirt inside, there's dirt outside. It's yours for the taking. Yet, you can't stop yourself from forking out your hard earned money just because their dirt has been neatly packaged for you and renamed "Soil".

Also, we live in the Pacific Northwest, why don't you let me go ahead and swoop up some of the grabillion pine cones that fall from the sky every GD day and you can stack them in all the decorative bowls your little heart desires for the bargain price of Mother-Nature-Owes-Me-For-Efiing-Up-My-Car's-Paint-Job. I'll even spray 'em with a little cinnamon Lysol for you. No ventures to Pier 1 Imports required.

I'm not saying I don't like free stuff like a free coffee at Starbucks, or a free gift with purchase, or free shipping. I'm also not saying that I can't appreciate the price of convenience, i.e. food delivery, valet parking, maid service (I can't actually afford any of that... but in a perfect world...). What I am saying is this...

My ass is broke, and even still...
I. Don't. Want. Your. Garbage.
I. Don't. Care. If. It's. Free.

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