Yeah, yeah — retardant.
Still, I’m having a lot of trouble these days jumping on the whole “fire retardant” product bandwagon. I’ve got groups of friends calling me up night and day wondering if I bought this fire retardant mattress or that fire retardant winter jacket or this fire retardant carpet sealer or that fire retardant fireplace log… And honestly, I’m sick and tired of being pressured into buying a product that really doesn’t retard fire at all, but just retards for a few minutes before burning…
…which is in my opinion, literally…retarded.
Sure, life may be a highway.
But honestly? Even if life was a highway, would you really want to be riding it all night long? I mean, sure it’s a metaphor so to speak, but isn’t that metaphor basically saying that life is a looooooong long road and that it goes on forever and might as well just ride it without stopping, even throughout the entire night without ever taking a break? Not even to shack up in a motel or anything?
You just don’t live life that way, people. You just don’t.
There’s bad jobs, and then there’s bad jobs.
Yet when faced with a slew of bad jobs that range from porta-potty cleaner to tollbooth taker to late shift urinal serviceman to bottle-capper — it seems that I have recently unearthed what I believe to be the worst job on the face of the Earth. A job that, when you really get down to it, has zero perks or positive aspects to it whatsoever.
That job? Being a parachute packer.
While you can find positives in some jobs, like the quiet time you have to yourself or the fact that some really boring jobs allow you the time to slowly get your real dreams in order, the job of actually just packing parachutes in preparation of people jumping out of planes has got to be devoid of positives.
It’s bad enough that someone has to ask you for a taste of your dessert.
You know who these people are, the ones who sit at dinner with you and decide they’re not going to order a dessert because they’re watching their waist or their daily caloric intake or they just don’t want to impose upon the person buying dinner by adding another twelve bucks to the tab. But ironically, as soon as your ice cream slathered apple pie shows up, they eye your right hand (which is holding the spoon) like a lion ready to pounce. Before long, they’ll ask for a taste…which is just fine by me.
But can you not be an incomplete spoon taster, at least?
People love shortcuts.
In fact, if you were to give someone a choice between a half-cooked omlette and a pan, some eggs, cheese and chives and a stove and ask them if they’d rather risk getting salmonella poisoning or cook their own food, they’d probably try their luck at the already half-cooked egg dish. It’s a matter of people in society preferring to do the least possible amount of work but still getting results in the process…
Which brings us to no-skill ladder holders.