BobsterMan
Member
- Joined
- Sep 19, 2008
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I was thinkin' the other day, that I could do a waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more recycling. So first thing I set myself some goals... five more pounds per week more, every week. The first week was easy... maybe too easy. I bought a blue box and put it on the curb. People, on their way by, would toss their papers and bottles and such into it, instead of carrying it home to their own blue box. I was quite proud of myself.
Week two was tougher, so in week three (I had to make up for week two shortfall, too) I got my own bluebox, but since I don't walk past my house too much, it was low. I was despondent. A good friend suggested that I take my bluebox inside, because I had lots of stuff there. JACKPOT!!! My old newspapers took me into week six just like that. I was on cloud nine. But then came the crash. By week seven I was completely out of everything in the house. I began to twitch... looking for signs. In desperation, I subscribed to all the daily newspapers in town, which led to raiding newspaper boxes. And then there was the crack cocaine of the NY and LA weekend papers.
But it wasn't enough. I had become numb to newsprint. So I subscribed to all the junk mail I could find. Next... I developed a Miller two-four a day habit for the bottles... then a couple of 18's for the cans. I was haunted in my dreams.
So here I sit... trying to capture the photons escaping from my computer monitor, to turn them into intelligent thoughts, in the midst of all this garbled verbiage we call a discussion forum.
Carmelita, hold me tighter...
Week two was tougher, so in week three (I had to make up for week two shortfall, too) I got my own bluebox, but since I don't walk past my house too much, it was low. I was despondent. A good friend suggested that I take my bluebox inside, because I had lots of stuff there. JACKPOT!!! My old newspapers took me into week six just like that. I was on cloud nine. But then came the crash. By week seven I was completely out of everything in the house. I began to twitch... looking for signs. In desperation, I subscribed to all the daily newspapers in town, which led to raiding newspaper boxes. And then there was the crack cocaine of the NY and LA weekend papers.
But it wasn't enough. I had become numb to newsprint. So I subscribed to all the junk mail I could find. Next... I developed a Miller two-four a day habit for the bottles... then a couple of 18's for the cans. I was haunted in my dreams.
So here I sit... trying to capture the photons escaping from my computer monitor, to turn them into intelligent thoughts, in the midst of all this garbled verbiage we call a discussion forum.
Carmelita, hold me tighter...
