Thursday, November 01, 2007

A freedom that you and I think is dumb.

I just finished off a box of what Country Choice calls "snacking cookies." I wasn't really aware there was another kind of cookie. I like the idea of Dinner Cookies. Technically any cookie can be a dinner cookie, but what if someone actually marketed a dinner cookie to busy professionals on the go? It could be a sort of weird savory cookie, like a dog biscuit.

I'm a Pepper.My family had a dog for a short, special time when I was about 7, until we understood that the reason my little brother was scratching his own skin off was because he was allergic to the dog. The dog's name was Zipper and he was a Doberman/German Shepherd mix. To be honest, I don't remember very much about having a dog except the barrel of dog food out in the porch, where we used to play such bizarre games as Little House (on the prairie, obvs), Dairy Queen (you would come to the window and order a peanut buster parfait and get a small tower of wooden blocks to eat), and Orphanage. The kids freely sampled from the dog food barrel. I'm not saying it was right; it's just what we did. Those little pellets were obscurely enjoyable. Not quite the way a dinner cookie would probably be, but still.

Have you ever read Down and Out in Paris and London? It's about George Orwell's broke ass in Paris and London, about the life of a kitchen slave and a tramp and what poverty and hunger do to the brain. The things I'm finding most interesting are his observations about the concept of "honest work" and how many manual labor jobs are, in the end, serving nothing and no one. I might have more to say about this later. Right now my eyes are bugging out from a day of staring at a computer.

About the heading. Every time, and I mean EVERY time, I deal with my Mr. Bento in any way whatsoever, I get that Arrested Development song "Mr. Wendell" in my head. You try living with that two or three times a day.

1 comment:

  1. Looove the kid games.

    My next door neighbor and I used to play Town, where we ran all over our two yards pointing out imaginary gas stations and stores and saying that we owned them. That sounds really boring to me now.

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