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Thursday 08 July 2004 at 11:26 pm Well crud. Seems that many people read my blog, and they are ticked off I haven't given them any fodder to make fun of me with.

That ends now.

I've just finished a hard day of work, a losing game of kickball to the team, lead by Fearless Mike and his Significant-Other Anna-Lyn, For Me To Poop On, and have completed drinking 2 Harps, a shot of Goldschlager (thx Mike!), followed by the rest of my 3rd Harp, and I'm feeling fine. Granted, not fine enough to drive (thanks for the ride Ben!), but fine as in I'm sitting in my Aeron Chair surfing the web just fine. (You can't see all the glaring and inappropriate typing mistakes I've just made. Sweet!)

Anyway, here's the idea for the day.

The world is filled with landfills. They all suck. They leak, they leech (mmmm, good word) into the natural underground water supply, and frankly, they don't bio-degrade too well. All these plastic containers of stuff -- ketchup/catsup, mild/hot/fire sauce, mustard, mayo -- they don't bio-degrade.

We, the people, already pay taxes (or a private company) to pick up our trash and deliver it to the most economical-for-them landfill they can find. But who's paying the tab for those things we discard that won't biodegrade for another 100+ years?

Time to put the onus back on the corporate entity. "It's cheaper and more convenient to give out plastic/foil filled packets of ketchup and other condiments than to fill a paper-based or bio-degradable-in-the-next-year-or-two package at the time of need/sale." Yeah, but who's gonna pay for another landfill because your crap doesn't turn into dirt and worm food after a year or two? Me. Me and all my neighbors and fellow Americans (who obviously all hate Bush, but that's another blog).

How to fix it? Create some sort of independant standards board. Have them come up with a formula for each and every discardable non-biodegradable-in-a-year-or-two item that is generated by a business. Ketchup packet gets a point. Styrofoam cup gets 8 points. Do something with packaging volume multiplied by its fully-bio-degradable half-life (times 2 for the half) to get some number. If a single business exceeds the quota set by the state (state law or federal, I don't care) for the amount of sales multiplied by the amount of trash generated by that amount of sale, the company is taxed in excess for the additional resources needed to store and degrade its trash into dirt again.

Yeah, it needs some revising, but what idea doesn't.

In other news, I introduced Amy from my kickball team to Mark at the bar tonight, but it turns out that Amy is indeed as shy as she claims, and Carrie moved in for the kill. Who knows if she got the guy's number, but when I left it looked like they were going to at least have a second date (though he was MUCH older than Carrie... eh, Carrie is MUCH more mature than her age might suggest, so I take back my judgment until further information is gathered).

I also totally busted "someone's" lip on accident. Another woman's lip. Oh man, that made me feel like crap. It was an accident. I just reacted to being in a wet t-shirt and it caused the lip thing. Lara Croft -- I'm sorry!

That's it. Jen's not home yet from her dinner out with her friend Amy (different one), and I've got a sore throat from who-knows-what. Oh well. G'nite you freaks reading my blog. Yes, you are freaks if you 're still reading. Still here? Freak. Or you are a monkey. Monkey's are strangely attracted to my blog....

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