Now it’s the twelfth
I’ve started making my lunch each day, rather than pay $12 for a re-heated chicken part on a roll I know they got from the supermarket next door.
There’s a problem though (a huge problem): the rolls don’t taste as good when I buy them directly from the supermarket, so instead I buy wraps. The wraps come in packs of eight, but — and here’s the problem alluded to earlier — I’m supposed to ‘consume within three days of opening’!
What am I, feeding 2.66666 people?
Do you hate lonely people, Helga? I reckon I can stretch it out to four days if I keep them under my bed where it’s quiet, but still, I’m throwing out a lot of material.
I guess I could buy ducks.
I saw some wild ducks today (running around with their tops off for beads). Perhaps I could enlist those ones to consume my surplus bread.
I’m trying to select ingredients that don’t require any utensils. Lettuce that I can tear apart with my bare hands like a cave woman, pre-sliced cheese, pre-sliced ham, salami (which doesn’t come any other way but sliced, and now I think about it must be quite the spectacle before the slice of its life).
Oh, and the particularly-egregious pre-grated carrot.
Cucumber is nice, but doesn’t come pre-sliced so it can go suck a bag of other cucumbers.
Regardless of my first-world ingredients, it’s still a pain in the ass, so I think I’m going back to $12 chicken schnitzel rolls. This is going to come with the pain of “where have you been” but I’ll just get drunk beforehand.
I’m considering drinking more. I feel like gimlets should be a part of my life. Oh this is great: a man showing how to make gimlets. If you can’t consume sound where you are right now, let me transcribe: “hopefully this take I’ve actually turned the camera on. I’ve already had a few takes and a few gimlets under my belt”.
I love that he finished making the gimlet (directly addressing the dead eye of the dormant camera), drank the gimlet, then went to press stop on the camera.
Then did it again.
There’s a ferry wharf near my house with “No Fishing” printed on a reflective sign which is affixed to a railing. It’s not really relevant that the sign is reflective, or how it’s held up. I’m just painting the scene.
I like to think that it isn’t a rule, but the casual imparting of knowledge. Like:
Man arriving at wharf with bait and tackle: “hey stranger, how’s the fishing”
Stranger with line in water [gesturing to empty bucket]: “shoot, ain’t No Fishin’ here”.
So the obedient townsfolk (who dare defy a sign!) don’t fish off the wharf, they sit seven metres away on the side of the river; empty bucket by their side, rods hanging hopefully over the water.
It’s really just sitting with equipment.
100% men too, so … that’s sexist.
My ear just popped!
Sport fishing is the worst thing in the world. Catching fish just to hold them up in the air for a photo then plop them back in the ocean? That must be so confusing for the fish. I wonder if they turn their life around after that? Straighten up and swim right. Turn over a new seaweed.
This is a really weird way to define a phrase:
Ah yes, to galvanize oneself into organizing one’s affairs effectively, now I understand this phrase that I previously didn’t understand. Thanks, dictionary.
I try to look on the bright side of things. Like, when you’re lonely, every weekend is a long weekend.