Category Archives: How Did This Happen

Your Hyping of Your Hype


I know that the Big Game or Small Game or Medium-Sized Game or Inconsequential Game or What Game? or whatever you’d like to refer to it as has already come and gone, but I would like to now voice a niggling complaint that I had prior to it.

It is not this: I derive enjoyment from Super Bowl commercials.

It is this: I do not derive enjoyment from what are essentially previews of these Super Bowl commercials.

A thirty-second spot of a product offering DOES NOT WARRANT a teaser! Not only is this (extra) commercial widely proliferated, it tells nothing of the product! It is advertising… an advertisement.

And just when I’d thought we’d scraped the bottom, it turns out there’s another barrel entirely.


Your Hyping of Your Hype Needs To Die

Photo Credits: Here

Stylish Gum Packages


That’s right! These oddly patterned, chewing-medium holders are sure to compliment hipsters of all sizes! They’ll match perfectly with your other essentials, like hairbrush covers, scarf tassles, and berets.

Thanks, Orbit gum. No, no, really.

Let Stylish Gum Packages Die

Photo Credits: Here

Your Cries for Information not Concerning You


I’d like to remind the populace that when you overhear a conversation and feel the need to implant yourself in it by asking the talker to repeat what was last stated, stop for a moment. If you are reasonably sure you heard correctly, ask anyway, like a sane person. If you have misheard, that’s fine, let it drop. However, if the person decides not to tell you what was said, do not pester further. You will become an annoyance, usually for no reason. There’s a purpose for that conversation not having been directly aimed at you in the first place, it most likely doesn’t involve you. And even if it did, how much weight do you put on other people’s gossip? It would more likely hurt you than help you. Don’t be verbally nosy… or I’ll attempt to remove your nose, verbally. That probably involves a lot of screaming.


Your Cries for Information not Concerning You Need To Die.

Photo Credits: Here


Unexpected Visitors


“Ask not for whom the doorbell tolls – it tolls for thee.”

At least, some days it certainly seems like it. Are-you-sure-you-didn’t-order-a-pizza this, notice-proclaiming-that-your-package-can’t-be-delivered-until-you-pick-it-up-because-you-were-in-the-bathroom-at-the-time-of-the-delivery that…those instances can really ruin the flow of a day. Yet, these are not the worst random events that can wander their way on to your doorstep. The unnannounced guests take that top (or, rather, bottom) spot.

Panic mode. Not only do you have to try and appear peaceable to these intruders, but, for the lesser-backboned, simple entertaining duties become an additional chore. Would you like to imbibe some of my precious household resources? Sorry, that doesn’t come in “Diet”. And yes, I’d love to talk about your medical experiences involving sliding on a puddle of pus, but I really do need to finish this tax return. No, no, I don’t want help. And no, I can’t list you as a dependent.

At least there’s that overwhelming sense of relief when the offending party leaves. What’s unfortunate is that there shouldn’t have been any stress in the first place. So please, interested visitors to my and others’ abodes: Call first.

And if you track anything in, don’t make me clean it up.

Let Unexpected Visitors Die

Photo Credits: Here

Sensing Your Cell Phone When It Hasn’t Gone Off


Over my self-indulgent hibernation, I’ve been spending a lot of time with a smartphone that I happened to receive over Christmas. It’s a neat little device, and I’m constantly overwhelmed by all the intricacies of it and the Android OS. It’s entertaining, but it’s gotten me thinking about cell phones in general. 

I haven’t had mine long enough to fully conceptualize what I’m going to talk about (which really should say something about how fantastic a writer I am. No, no, please, your thanks are definitely not necessary). Heck, it still feels like an electric shock probes its way into my thigh whenever I get a text message. Thanks, vibrate mode.

However, for the cellularly-adept, the opposite problem seems to occur. “What’s that? Surely that was my phone; after all, people NEED me! I am their lifeblood! They want MY van’s candy! So let my open up this gadget real quick…” and BAM, nothing. Hopes are dashed and disappointment creeps in. Chalking it up as phantom noise, or a mistake in the phone, you go back to your regular duties.

If it only happened once, well, that would be fine. Actually, this process can repeat itself many times throughout the average day, causing a compounding effect with the hopes and disappointment. Especially when you’re really hoping to hear from someone. It’s frustrating, because the fault lies entirely with the device’s owner. The emotional-warhead side of it can aggravate, too. Appearing, at times, like you should spill acid in your ears in order to cleanse this mistaken sensory stimulation.

I can’t wait until I reach this stage. Trust me.

Everyone needs to feel wanted. Unfortunately, everyone wants to feel needed, too.

Let Sensing Your Cell Phone When It Hasn’t Gone Off Die

Photo Credits: Here

Your Weird Cleaning Habits


Because I’m fairly certain that the inside of every individual vacuum-sealed bag doesn’t need dusted.


Your Weird Cleaning Habits Need To Die

Photo Credits: Here

Shapely Sleds


Today I was pleased to find that a set of sleds had been gifted to me. They had an immaculate package, and their length was surprising. They seemed a bit flimsy at first, but I suspected that, through use, they’d firm up in no time. It was hard to take my eyes off them, as I couldn’t stop imagining what sorts of things I could plow through or slip under.

Sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. You too should get to experience the momentary joy that these colorful members had to offer. I’ll wet your whistle with the following:

Temptation!

Appeal!

Sounds awesome, right? Like the coolest thing ever, right? My mouth was watering with anticipation at this point, contemplating the majesty of what I was about to behold. I couldn’t wait to set my butt down on one of these, feeling the smooth caress of the plastic as it found a groove through the snow-filled hills and valleys.

Then I took a look at the actual sled.

I'd like to retract my statement.

They all turn this color when they're outside long enough.

Oh… oh, oh dear. As I pondered just how apt the “easily carried and stored” part of the marketing was and wondered what opportune words might rhyme with “cleanness”, a thought rose up to meet me. I pondered just how important shapes are in manufacturing, and realized that, despite the best intentions, sometimes you’ve just got to take a step back and think about precisely what you’ve created.

I don’t plan to ever use these sleds. Probably. My mind’s too infantile to allow me, but with company around, it may decide “Hey, wouldn’t it be funny if?”. I’ll keep you updated if these are ever used in a “group outing”, as it were.

Then again, maybe the construction just makes the sled aerodynamic….as long as the rider doesn’t Freudian slip off of it.

Let Shapely Sleds Die

Photo Credits: Taken by the author, unfortunately.