generiCtrenD.com - quicK hitS 5

QUICK HITS 5

My favorite thing on this website. Quick Hits. I've assembled a few more for your reading pleasure.

FINANCIAL PLANNING

I'm always looking for ways to a save a buck. Retirement planners always advise to "trim the fat" in order to increase savings. Examples they commonly provide: don't go out to lunch so often, skip the store coffee in favor of some home brew, maybe even turn the thermostat down a notch or two. Thanks for that advice.

I cut my own hair and buy dried bags of beans because I consider canned beans frivolous. There's no more fat left to cut. How about some cost-analysis breakdowns for candle-light vs. electric-light? Is it cheaper to buy wax in bulk and make my own candles? How long will it take to amortize the cost of a loom and spinning wheel? I don't know how to make my own cloth, but I'll buy a few sheep, if the process will net me a few extra dollars.

COMPETITION

Now that football season is over, I've taken to watching spelling bees and equestrian events. I'll watch anything where a winner is declared, just so I can slam back a few more beers and not think myself an alcoholic.

VISION

I pulled into the parking lot at work. In the distance, on a bus, was an advertisement that read "Lesbian Bartending". Now that's a bar I could come to like.

No, wait. It was just my sleepy eyes.

It actually said, "Learn Bartending". No thanks then. I like to keep my evenings free.

RESOURCES

The last time it snowed heavily, the plow truck dumped a big pile of salt at the end of the road. Not so handy for melting large areas of ice and salt, but helpful the modern hunter/gatherer. Several people from the neighborhood were out with buckets scooping up the salt.

Like primitive man, we were gathering base resources. It would have been foolish to wait until bison and antelope appeared to lick all of our precious salt.

BACK TO THE FUTURE

I received an email from the future. It looks like in 2038 I'll win an IPod Nano. Fantastic news.

MACHINE GUN

I received a light for my desk at work. It came in a triangular box that any male child would recognize as a machine gun. Not a real machine gun mind you, just a pretend one. But good enough for slaying through pretend enemies.

The box had to be thrown away.

I grabbed the box, slung it under my arm, and headed off for the trash can. I forgot where and when I was quickly. The hallway turned into a dark jungle. Sweat pour from my face. The bandoleer pulled at my neck.

Completely lost in my fantasy world, I pursed my lips, ready to start spewing machine gun noises. Right as I was on the verge regressing to my nine year old self, someone rounded a corner and took me out of the moment. No jungle, no hand grenades, no machine gun. Just a cardboard box.

Regretfully, I was able to wasted no enemies.