Saturday, 15 June 2013

Milk Caps

Recently I perused a few blogs because that is what you do on the internet. Among these blogs were those of my cousins; Kristan and Teo. The two had an argument between their blogs, which by examination seem to be dedicated to that purpose, although Kristan did write some short story about some scientist dumb enough to disintegrate himself.

This argument was over the banal topic of proper milk jug conduct. Although I am a bit late to the argument, I might as well write down my two cents. It's so hilariously depressing how a simple argument about whether a simple act (which has become reflex for me) becomes the basis for published works that argue human tendencies not related to kitchen etiquette at all. Sure it happens in real conversations, or in a forum, but these are blogs dammit!

Here is a quote that pretty much summarizes what I'm talking about
"What I'm talking about is the lack of understanding that your fellow man has just as many rights as you do and to violate any one of those rights is a violation on something beautiful."
 Okay, so imagine what realistic argument would transpire towards this. The opposition, is violating the rights of their fellow human beings, to force them into closing the milk jugs. Holy shit the Milk Nazis are coming!

Die Kappe ├╝berlegen ist!
(The Cap is Superior)
Ok, so this is scary, especially since in a kitchen, getting stuffed into an oven is more prevalent than any other room in the house. When the milk Nazis break down my door I will be ready, sourdough in hand. I would have fought them off with French bread, but that would easily crumble, and i suspect they would take my rhye claiming i had taken it from them.

Culinary Nazi jokes aside, I do think it is hilarious how a simple squabble could result in a written article. If I wrote about such mundane things all the time, I suspect I'd be a flagrant hipster, like the ones who post billions of pictures of sewer drains. Vernacular is their domain, since most of it is pretty bad art anyhow.

Maybe my next post will be an biography about that house plant the dog mercilessly knocked over the other day.

Thursday, 6 June 2013

Mid Creek

Currently Standing
Midst of Wide
Freezingly Flowing
Creek that Sifts

I'm Gazing Ahead
Toes have Grown Number
From Cold like Dead
Synthesized Comfort

Ice is more Sandpaper
Than Frozen Needles
It Smooths Down Rounder
Than Hardened Spikes