thingsiputinmycontainertoday

M&Ms

ronniethebear — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 20:52:36 +0000

Chocolate. Specifically, dark chocolate M&Ms.

A year or two ago, I read an article – I remember it was a UK news source, the Independent or the Telegraph or the Guardian, maybe BBC – about the rising price of chocolate, and how eventually a chocolate bar that might cost $1 today would in the future be $7. Financial ambition isn’t my thing, but if chocolate prices ever really go through the roof, it will be.

On a completely unrelated note, I suppose I shouldn’t accuse paperclip-washers of OCD, as I have organized M&Ms by color (“m” side up, of course) more than once in the past. Because what’s more delicious than chocolate? Organized chocolate.

Paint the town

ronniethebear — Tue, 18 Oct 2011 12:00:01 +0000

“Adversarial” might not be the word that jumps to mind when you see puff paints, but they have at least two serious adversaries: washing machines, and paperclips. They usually defeat the former (this kind of paint is supposed to adhere to fabric, after all), but tend to succumb to the pointy, de-clogging probings of the latter (how many paperclips have been bent out of shape to dig dried plastic-y paint out of the nozzle?).

In fact, this sounds like a new, arts & crafts version of Rock, Paper, Scissors: paperclip beats paint, paint beats washing machine…washing machine beats paperclip?

I don’t know, my theory might fall down there. I don’t know anyone who washes paperclips at all, let alone anyone who is OCD enough to put them through the washing machine (that is not an invitation, life has enough crazy in it as it is). And maybe they would even jam the machine, which would ruin the whole Paint-Paperclip-Washing Machine idea.

Rock-Paper-Scissors, I guess you win. Though Bear-Ninja-Cowboy is gaining in popularity, so don’t get complacent. (Who comes UP with these games?)

If that’s the Cure…

ronniethebear — Mon, 17 Oct 2011 12:00:45 +0000

Harmonica.
Eye pillow.
Unrelated? I think not.

Light my way

ronniethebear — Wed, 12 Oct 2011 17:55:07 +0000

Hey everybody, I’m a flashlight!
I’m here to light the way when you’re in the dark, to squeeze the shining power of celestial bodies into the palm of your hand. I’m always around for when you need me, except that the times you REALLY need me are the times you inadvertently found yourself in a dark forest, and therefore were not schlepping me around with you.

Sure you have that LED keychain, you should give that a shot. Oh wow a full two feet of light beam, now you get a whole 0.5 seconds to notice that the wolves have arrived. Or maybe you’ve dropped your contact lens. Good luck locating an invisible dime-sized piece of glass with your flimsy LED and your weak Agnostic prayers.

I’ll just be home in this container, chilling, wishing some cool outdoorsy person bought me instead.

Oh snap

ronniethebear — Mon, 10 Oct 2011 16:12:15 +0000

Call it stuck in the late ’80s, but the container loves snap bracelets.

Gold stars

ronniethebear — Sat, 08 Oct 2011 02:41:57 +0000

Back in 2005, a friend of mine wore this to a party. And when I say “wore this to a party,” I don’t mean as some kind of decoration, like a crown or bracelet or necklace: I mean he wore it as a shirt. (With jeans. Everything matches jeans.) Looking back, I can’t even remember if the party had a theme, but he was the kind of person who could pull off the gold-star-wire-with-jeans look even if the party didn’t have a theme. Hell, I’m pretty sure he invented that look.

I bet he didn’t think it would end up on the internet six years later.

You’re the one

ronniethebear — Thu, 06 Oct 2011 15:59:00 +0000

Rubber ducky, you’re the one! You make bath time, so much fun! Until you float behind my back and remind how criminally inflexible I am. If you were real I’d say that’s pretty passive aggressive, but you’re a rubber duck so I say nothing (out loud).

On second thought, this container would make a nice little bathtub for you. And the world’s smallest duck can be YOUR rubber duck, swimming around like a little ducky satellite and there goes my sanity

Drink Me

ronniethebear — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 15:01:30 +0000

It’s 7:15 in the morning, and you think nothing can move more slowly than pedestrians on this sidewalk. Until you get into the retro-vintage-chic-coffee shop called “Bean On Me” for your it’s-so-early-the-f’ing-birds-are-asleep, so-fair-trade-the-coffee-farmers-pay-our-rent, hemp-strained carbon-neutral steam-molested eighteen-thirteenths shot of espresso, and the batteries on both of your iPads run out.

Time to upgrade to an Irish coffee.Think of it like a 5 Hour Energy, but delicious. Think of it like tailgating, but at dawn. Alone.

Or just don’t think of it, and drag your selfish woebegone ass out of my way, because I thought of it already and I’m the worst kind of drunk… wide awake drunk.

Let me tell you about these socks

ronniethebear — Tue, 04 Oct 2011 14:23:28 +0000

At what age does receiving socks as gifts go from being lame to being awesome? I can’t remember when it happened. And sure, Lego and Scrabble and Polly Pocket are still fun (actually, I heard Polly Pocket kind of sold out, so maybe not her, but definitely Lego and Scrabble, and also Scrabble’s hot cousin from out of town, Bananagrams).

But let me tell you about these socks.

They are from Costco. They are three pairs – that’s six individual socks altogether (for $15. $15!) – in three colors (blue, purple, and Horvath, which is what I’m now calling the color gray, because it is pretty much the only color that my friend, surname Horvath, ever wears, and NO, there is no such thing as “bright gray,” MS. HORVATH).

They are wonderful. They are thick and warm – my feet have been warm for something like 72 hours now, which is highly unusual for a month that is not June, July, or August. They are like walking with your feet ensconced in clouds (if clouds felt like what they looked like and not like what they actually are, which is cold and wet).

Socks!

Like a big empty nothing. Like a jar.

ronniethebear — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 16:39:00 +0000

Piglet is unparalleled in his powers of description. Then again, how would YOU describe a Heffalump?

“Like – like – It had the biggest head you ever saw, Christopher Robin. A great enormous thing, like – like nothing. A huge big – well, like a – I don’t know – like an enormous big nothing. Like a jar.”