"I'm just going to check my computer to see what kind of trouble it's getting me in." This is often the last thing heard in the house before I disappear for an hour. Here are this evening's gems which I found over at Treehugger.
If you charge a return deposit, beer tastes better. —OK, maybe that wasn't the lesson I was supposed to walk away with but it makes me wonder why this method isn't the norm for dealing with recycling of more types of things.
I've been saying this for awhile, albeit less succinctly and with more spittle flying from my lips: "You've gotta love a world where the food that's been sprayed with toxic chemicals is normal and the other stuff gets its own tiny section of the supermarket." Organic may be cheaper than chemical-bathed. Check your labels closely, gang.
Eat your burger and/or the wrapper it came in! —I'd like a Whopper, hold the brain-wasting-disease-carrying-hormone-ridden beef, the bread with HFCS, the chemical-washed lettuce and tomato and the mystery condiments. I just want the wrapper and a non-bleached 100% post-consumer recycled napkin, please. Thanks.
Once again, I'm experiencing "whatamIsupposedtodonow?" syndrome. BPA has been banned in Canada and I have a cabinet full of BPA-laden Nalgene bottles. Now it turns out, cans may be a worse culprit of BPA poisoning. OK, whatever. Tomorrow I'll start dealing with the cabinet full of canned fruit I bought in an effort to avoid purchasing pre-compost. But here's my question: what the hell am I supposed to do with all these Nalgene bottles that are not recyclable in my municipality?!?!?!?! Can't live with 'em, can't toss 'em. Swell.
Enough rabble-rousing. I've lost my appetite to ever eat again—except for maybe food wrappers and beer in Copenhagen—and I'm going to bed.
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