"Do I contradict myself? Very well, I contradict myself. I am vast. I contain multitudes." -Walt Whitman

:malicious user:

Monday, April 12, 2004

oops . . . wrong planet
the good parts of today: my angel (as always); my favorite classical composition in 5.1 surround sound (mussorgsky's pictures at an exhibition); an incredibly good, incredibly easy dinner (taco skillet with tossed salad & dogfish head 90 minute ale).

the stupid part of today: i bought some of those store-brand semi-disposable resealable tupperwarish containers from the local supermarket. as i packed up tonight's leftovers, i noticed the lid reads "caution: contents may be hot."

i bought these containers.


i did this.

from the supermarket. in a five-pack.

do you realize the implication here?

apparently, the braintrust at supermarket, inc., thinks that i, their clientele, are so freaking stupid that i'm going to:

1. purchase their tupperwareish container,
2. stuff it full of my leftovers,
3. stick it in the microwave and nuke it up,

and then

4. take it out of my own freaking microwave and NOT REALIZE THAT IT'S HOT!!!

this terrifies me. because i know it costs money to put that warning on the lid, and supermarket, inc., wouldn't have done it without good cause. like someone burning themselves with their own leftovers taken out of their own microwave. because they didn't realize it was disposable plastic and not an asbestos-lined nuclear-grade leftover container. these are the same people we can thank for the "open other end' message on the bottom of the pepperidge farm three-layer cake box.

shouldn't these people just be left to demonstrate darwin's survival of the fittest theory and leave more cake for the rest of us? my point of view is that, if some doofus burns themselves taking leftovers out of the micro and, in the dance of pain, cracks his head open on the microwave stand and bleeds out - then, hey, you, out of the deep end of the gene pool!

but then i think about it: the person most likely to reach these leftovers first is my stepdaughter, mouse. we went strawberry picking about five years back. she knew two days in advance that we were going strawberry picking. we drove to the farm, where a big hand-made sign read "U PIK STRAWBERRYS". we parked in the mud and traipsed through the soggy field to the strawberry patch, stretching out for a hundred yards in all directions. mouse looked down, and in a moment of beautiful, sincere, child-like wonder mixed with generation-next oblivion, exclaimed in all honestly, "look! strawberries!"

i think i realize the target audience for these warning labels now.
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i used to be disgusted. now i try to be amused.
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