Thursday, November 05, 2009

I think I am one.


PRONUNCIATION: (nih-i-LAR-ee-uhn)

MEANING: noun: One who does useless work.

ETYMOLOGY: From Latin nihil (nothing).


I would have thought ‘nihilist’ would mean the same thing (much like ‘typist’ and ‘typarian’ do, or ‘agrist’ and ‘agrarian’. Look it up!), but that is not the case. In fact, a nihilist is a person who believes human existence has no objective meaning, purpose, or intrinsic value. So, taking this to its logical ending, a nihilarian nihilist must be the happiest person in the world, having fulfilled their philosophy perfectly while making money doing so!

If that were the case for me, I’d be getting a paycheck for lazing around surfing the internet looking for gross pictures of surgery and/or infections.

Oh wait.


Anyhow. It’s Thursday, otherwise known as ‘trash day’ in our neighborhood. It’s a big thing, the trash day. Garbage canes must be lined up not further than X feet from the roadside so the garbage truck motorized arm can effectively lift your bin o’ flotsam into it’s gaping maw, and heaven FORBID if you put the recycling container too close to the garbage can because wow, won’t that make it hard for the recycling people (a kinder, gentler garbageman, I think) to get to the precious load of green-living. So, bins n’ cans must be lined up properly and adjusted for wind speed and the sun’s angle as well perhaps as barometric pressure but we’ve not had a memo on that yet thank goodness.

Oh, and also? It’s common knowledge that if you do not retrieve your garbage coffins by Friday morning and place them neatly back in whatever area they live during the week, you’re kind of a sloth and the neighbors have every right to either 1) snigger haughtily at you while feeling superior at their own can-putting-away skills or 2) be concerned that you might be dead in your own home and your pets are snacking on your eyeballs.

Guess how often #2 happens.

Oh yes, it’s high times all around where we live, and we don’t even have a HOA. It’s just good old-fashioned neighboring, where detente is achieved through tacit understanding of ‘how people are supposed to behave.’ It a nice system we got going, fueled by nothing more than general decency.

Except of course for that house on the corner…but we’ve gotten used to the old trucks in the yard and the piles of crap peeking out over the pool fence. *Sigh* There’s one in every neighborhood, ain’t there?

You’ve got one of ‘them’ where you live, don’tcha? Whyn’t you spill your guts in the comments? It will help relieve some of that rage you have going on that’s keeping you from realizing your full zen potential. Trust me.

As for me, I’m off to shampoo a wild boar, plant a row of ‘maters, and slipstitch a fleece shroud for a newborn echidna that was born utterly hairless. Y’all have a glorious day.

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