I’m Pooped

Whilst reading my email in the bathroom, I had an Archimedes Eureka! moment that gave me the perfect idea for a blog. Interestingly, most of my blog ideas stem from some sort of bathroom activity.

Anyway, I was changing my toilet paper roll, and while smashing the roll into the holder and subsequently (and unsuccessfully) wresting some paper from the now oblong roll, I wondered how we, as society, evolved from normal rolls of toilet paper to rolls that resemble Big Wheel tires that oftentimes don’t even fit into standard sized roll holders.

Granted, original rolls are, indeed, too small. An ex used to refer to them as “single use” rolls because he tended to spend a lot of time in the little boys’ room. But I digress.

Then we were introduced to double rolls. Okay, that makes sense especially for those who tend to use more than their fair share of the product (cough-ex-cough.)

But, wait! The paper industry powers that be rolled out (pun intended) jumbo rolls. Again, these were good because we, er most of us, didn’t have to change them as frequently, and they still fit on the roll holder.

Then, lo and behold, what’s this I see? Mega rolls which are four baby rolls packed into one. However, given the nature of human beings to always want more and bigger and better, introducing (drum roll please) jumbo mega rolls. These are approximately the equivalent of, what, ten regular rolls? All I know is that they don’t fit on my roll holders, and I’m certainly not going to invest in a decorative freestanding toilet paper rack when I have perfectly good rollers attached to the side of my cabinets. Besides, I’m a klutz, and invariably, the holder and I will be involved in some sort of collision. Repeatedly.

In fact, the last time I went toilet paper shopping, I couldn’t even find anything smaller than jumbo mega rolls. I always look for the best bargain in a cost-per-roll calculation. Did I want the nine-pack that is equivalent to 84 regular rolls or the 32-pack that was the equivalent of 812 regular rolls. I didn’t feel like doing math, so I just got the Charmin with the green label that I particularly like. And it was on sale to boot.

What’s next Procter & Gamble, Georgia-Pacific, and Kimberly Clark? Gigarolls? One enormous roll packaged like those giant five-pound Hershey Kisses or Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups? (I love Reese’s by the way.)

I can’t wait.

Parched

I have recently become quite addicted to Powerade Zero. But only the red ones. You know, fruit punch. It’s a nice replacement for sugar-laden soda (although I will still drink one on occasion) and provides a pleasant change from the gallons of water I consume daily.

As far as the zeros go, it is available in orange, grape, and blue mixed berry. Yuck. Yuck. Super Yuck. And, of course, the red fruit punch. While I have no problem whatsoever finding my beloved beverage in the 32-ounce size (and, I might add heavily discounted thanks to grocery store sales), trying to find the eight-pack of 20-ounce bottles is even more difficult than trying to locate a needle in a haystack, a four-leaf clover in a field, or your contact lenses on casino carpet.

And before you think it, just don’t. Gatorade is gross. Truly repugnant.

I have looked high and low, in numerous Albertsons, Smith’s, and Vons, and in several Walmarts and Targets to no avail. Oh sure, the disgusting blue ones are everywhere. In fact, in many retail outlets, there’s not even a space on the shelves for the fruit punch ones. Regular fruit punch is abundant but not the zero ones. Why is that, Coca Cola? Why is this item so damn difficult to find? I’ve even asked grocery managers to order it, which, apparently, they can’t, or, more accurately, won’t. Pfft.

Yes, I know I can order it on Amazon and have it delivered like some antisocial shut-in who can’t grocery shop for herself. But that’s beside the point even though I may be just a skosh antisocial. Just a skosh, mind you. But I enjoy grocery shopping. I particularly relish playing “Stump the Checker” with some uncommon produce item that very few people purchase such as fennel, rutabagas, or parsnips which force the person ringing me up to ask what it is. Sometimes, when I’m feeling really obnoxious, I memorize the item’s number and provide that to the cashier.

Well, I’m off to order 12 family packs of Powerade Zero fruit punch from Amazon. Until next time.

Let Them Eat Meat

So, I used to be a vegetarian. I started just to see if I could, and I could, so yay me. However, I really missed fish and chicken wings, so now I am a pesca-fowl-atarian (no, it’s not a word, I just made it up. Work with me, people.)

Anyway, one thing I noticed (and how could I not) was that aside from fruits, vegetables, tofu, and beans, vegetarian food is ridiculously expensive. Granted, there are many Morningstar Farms and other brands of vegetarian “meat” products such as veggie burgers, bean burgers, couscous burgers, quinoa and brown rice burgers, chickenless chicken patties, meatless meatballs (wouldn’t that just be “balls”?), fishless fish sticks, and ground meat “crumbles” to name a few. It’s not bad, in fact, many of these products are quite good. The problem is the price.

Take, for example, ground beef. The really fatty 60%/40% artery-clogging shit that Walmart shoppers tend to purchase in 20-pound logs can be had for, oh, $0.99/pound. The leaner blends like 80%/20% or 90%/10% can go for as much as $2-$3/pound. Even ground turkey is only about $4/pound. Morningstar Farms “meat crumbles” are $5.99 for a 12-ounce bag. If you’re lucky, you might be able to find it for $5.79. Does this sound fair? No, of course not. Essentially, vegetarians/vegans are being punished for eating healthily.

In a similar vein, I am also lactose intolerant. So not only did I have to spend an exorbitant amount on meat substitutes, I also had (and continue to have) to spend a ridiculous amount of money on non-dairy dairy products.

Milk varietals aren’t too terribly expensive. With the numerous brands of almond, cashew, coconut, soy, oat, goat, and yak milk, one can usually get a decent price. So, whereas a gallon of regular milk is about $3, I can typically find my no-sugar-added vanilla almond milk for about $2.79 for a half gallon. Oat milk is more expensive, but it’s so good (provided you don’t mind drinking chunky gray “milk” or watching your Cheerios floating around in what resembles sewage.) You can even make your own oat milk if you so desire. But I digress.

Cheese and ice cream are where the pocketbook begins to hurt. Vegan cheese is easily 3-4 times the price of regular cheese. The same goes for vegetarian/vegan pizza. You can get 12 Tony’s 10-inch meat lovers supreme pizzas for $2 but one 9-inch Daiya vegan veggie pizza is $8.99. What the hell?!

And ice cream?! Decent non-dairy ice cream that doesn’t taste like the layer of irremovable ice in my freezer is about $6 per pint. PINT. “Normal” ice cream is, what, two gallons for $4 when they’re on sale. When my ice cream is on sale, I only have to pay $5 per pint. Yay me.

So how about it, manufacturers? How about making some of this stuff a bit more affordable? In my dreams, right?