My rage has gone beyond palpable. It’s pulpable, in fact I’m gunna juice it, ferment it, and make it into a wine. It’s gunna be a pinot noir.
Know why?
Because it’s lights out.
Today I learned of something else that makes you just wanna pull your own head off your neck and run down whoever invented the idea of printer ink subscriptions.
Four ply toilet paper. Yea, sure, I could go all headless berserker after whoever’s brain child this was too, but my hit list is not mutually exclusive. What is important is that I’m getting my 10k steps in tonight, and that someone went so far as to think there’s a market for literally wiping your ass with roll of children’s blanket. They came after K cups, plastic straws, and the one family trip a year you can finagle from your job that gives you 10 days of sick time and PTO in a shared pool. Somehow that is whats turning the environment into a Superfund site. Not the yachts that’re like mobile skyscrapers. Nor the private jets whizzing about the globe to indulge their multi continent meal plans. And definitely not the professionally waxed, buffed, and shined asses that demand four ply toilet paper.
It’s like they just bowed out of sharing the same genome with the rest of us. Most of us don’t even realize just how far the divide has grown. You’d think that our bathroom habits would at least be the single unifier between the have and have-nots. Instead now, a couple of us go for the 3 ply. I’m not throwing any shade on y’all, gotta have some luxuries in life. Then you have most of us standing on business with 2 ply, the sensible family sedan of the bunch. A few less fortunate, rough and tumble types continue fight the good fight with 1 ply, a rougher job by far because God help you if that single finger breaks through.
But let’s be real, if that finger breaks through? It’s because God wasn’t looking.
God is love.
And that ain’t love.
When is enough enough? Maybe just forget about toilet paper all together at that point. Just get a roll of Bounty, or some Hanes, or your own in house textile mill, because you’ve left the reservation and have ventured all the way out to destinations unknown. Sure it might only cost a buck or two more per roll than the stuff the rest of us use, but we’re in the principle of the thing now. Does everything need a super elite luxury tier? Once upon a time we could run into our bosses in the super market or at the amusement park, make fake nice and go our separate ways happily talking shit about each other and enjoy our days.
Now its not even a matter of having two Americas. We got at least 3 but one has an entry fee that no one else can afford, and its actively reminding everyone else that they ain’t welcome. We need to get back to the basics. Back to when even if we had different sized houses, drove different brands of cars, and didn’t see eye to eye on almost anything...
We still took shits as equals.
-RC