Nabisco Has Gone Too Far

I find the Nilla wafers packaging to be highly unsettling.

Nilla wafers are as calm a snack product as there will ever be, but there is way too much action on the cover of the box. Namely, one of the wafers is plunging—with no apparent source of propulsion—into a short, though probably refreshing, glass of milk. I don't like it. There is no way this wafer could possibly have propelled itself into the milk without a prime mover. No form of wafer, Nilla being no exception, has any sort of locomotive ability aside from the aptitude to roll down an incline or fall from a precariously balanced position, i.e. edge of a precipice. This wafer was obviously thrown.

What kind of sick individual would throw a Nilla wafer, I do not know. But I would add that it was hardly necessary to immortalize the event by plastering such an offense on every box of Nilla wafers currently in print.

My many faithful and highly irregular readers can testify that I have never been one to call out my corporate sponsors in such a widely read forum as my very own blog, but Nabisco, you've got some explaining to do. My Nilla wafers will be no part of your high-flying acrobatic spectacle or your Hollywood blockbuster stunt. No sir, my Nilla wafers will be arranged on a separate plate, and I will enjoy them with a glass of milk, and that milk will not be poured so close to the top that I have to sip a little before picking it up, because my Nilla wafers will be wafers of comfort, and my Nilla wafers will be wafers of peace. You can keep your "simple goodness," Nabisco, but you best set my Nilla wafers down, on a paper towel, with half a sliced banana. And you most certainly will not disturb me from my nap after I have cleaned up my mess and wiped off my placemat. And with that, good day to you, Nabisco.

I Laugh When a Flamingo Trips

I laugh when a flamingo trips
and plays it off like nothing happened,
and when a llama gazes into the distance,
contemplating,
then turns and meets my eyes
and declares us equals with his gaze.

I laugh when my mom looses her glasses
on her head.
and when Dad realizes he is wrong
halfway through explaining why he is right,
and when they both have to call me
because they can’t work the remote.

I laugh when I chomp down on a fork
even though I’ve been feeding myself
for a good while now,
and when I fart loudly during the final,
in the class I might be failing
but no one seems to notice.

Hey Look at Me

I'm doing work and being productive, I mean, wasting my life away online. Okay I love ya ba-bye.

Ah Crap v.2

Enough said.

What Sitting on a Bench Did to Me

When my cousin Rosalind was three years old, my aunt heated up a bottle of milk for her. But Rosalind thought the milk was too cold, so my aunt heated it some more. Still, Rosalind said her bottle was too cold, and my Aunt kept heating it up, and it was always too cold, so finally she tested a few drops on her wrist, and the milk was scalding.

When my Aunt told me about this, I first thought that something must be wrong with Rosalind’s nervous system, but that wasn’t the case. Somehow, Rosalind had confused the words “hot” and “cold.” Hot still felt hot, and cold felt cold, but somehow the words had gotten switched in her head.

I don’t really know why I am writing this, except it just came to me as a parallel for where I am at in life, and I don’t really know why yet.

I guess I figured someone out there might find a witty way to ridicule my subconcious.

We Put Mother Nature in a Home, feedback would be lovely

The modern shady tree beside a lazy brook
Charges and syncs via USB.
Or, for more serious thinkers,
There’s the contemplative rock,
Assuming they're lucky enough to run across one
On the race to work, or class, or distraction.

But there’s nothing fashionable about rocks—
Even our paperweights
Come in etched glass and silver plate.