Packing!

Listen, their are two types of packers in the world, and I can't distinguish between them. Damn, that sounded punchier when I had something to go along with it. Essentially, S is the first type of packer. This type of packer carefully labels every single box. They wrap each item delicately in newspaper and place it in the box as though it were a baby bird being returned to its nest. Though, as we all know, that mother bird smells dirty human on baby birds, resents the fact that dinosaurs have been superseded by mammals and commences pecking holes in the baby bird's eyes. At least that's what my science teacher told me. Thanks Mr. Corey! (Aside: I give thanks to Mr. Corey for nothing. He was the single worst teacher I ever had. Though, as seventh grade crushes go, if anyone knows Gail Strickland tell her I say hello).

Back to packing. S's type of packing is not necessarily efficient in terms of saving time up front, but she insists that it saves time on the back end. (Please insert the office joke here).

I'm the second type of packer. A ruthless and efficient packer. Like if packing was a jungle, I'd be the f-ing panther or lion, or dominant species of gorilla that rules the jungle and also raises little orphan boys. I just throw sh-t in boxes and say to hell with it. It will all get sorted out in the wash. And yeah some things might get broken in the move, but the things that don't break will be the things that really wanted to stay with us. They'll have gained my trust.

Math, of which little has been written about.
If you look at the problem below where x is the amount of time that S spends packing and y is the amount of time that I spent packing and z is the amount of time that it takes in sum total,

x-z=
y-z=

you can clearly see why I failed all of my math classes after the sixth grade and got a Masters degree in the Fine Arts.

Does it really save a lot of time to have boxes neatly labeled? The answer: no. The real reason that S, and presumably all women label boxes, is so that they can then direct the men carrying them various places. "Oh wait, take that box to the kitchen. Uh, that one goes in the basement." We all know that it's really just to make the men feel stupid, as though they couldn't read what it said on the boxes. Why not just do a rush job and plunk everything down in the living room? Let's be honest, it's a nice central place where you can send all of your belongings out into your new home, like some kind of giant octopus. (In this scenario other people are your arms). So now you're packed up in half the time with half the hassle and you half-assed the job. What could be better?

Honestly, as S was packing up tonight after I little while I grew tired and confuses at her method and just sat on the couch watching football. I suppose that's what comes of being the male lion in charge of the pride. When you have nothing to do, you just kind of laze about in all your power while the females run off and kill and elephant Planet Earth style.

I guess the main point I wanted to make is that the wilderness is a pretty crazy place. And that we should probably cut the whole damn thing down. The wilderness that is, and all the creatures therein.

Watch this video. Yeah, it's eight minutes but it drives my point home like a hammer on a nail. If only that was a saying...And if you can't convince me that you don't have eight minutes to watch your childhood fantasy of animals of varying species in a death match. Don't you dare not click on the video. That bowl of cereal/morning/evening shower/ is not more important than what this video says about how we should chop down the wilderness. Okay, I guess I'll ease up now. The wildebeest charge just kind of got me fired up.

This is some crazy shi-.




boxes and bags.