Tag Archives: lady parts

Point #8-Just Move to the Junkyard NOW, or “Damn You, Regretsy!”

29 Oct

I am not an efficient person by nature. I really truly have to force myself to organise and declutter, because my natural instinct is to firmly believe that come the revolution, the only thing standing between me and complete chaos and annihilation is my collection of vintage baby food jars, or perhaps my priceless toilet paper rolls circa 2008. Therefore, it was with a heavy heart that I sadly, but ruthlessly denuded a box of “craft supplies”, or “crap”, brought recently to my newish apartment from my storage locker. Anything that I couldn’t think of a good use for and had had for some time was due for the bin. Insert frowny face here.

It was thus with great sadness that I finally divested myself of a tremendous prize to which I had clung for many years: a sizable collection of AOL CDs taking up a narrow drawer that was going to need to house different stock in my new, more organised system. I stared longingly at these shiny little discs, trying desperately to find some use for them. CDs melted in the oven made gorgeous pieces similar to dichroic glass, but the fumes were apparently epic, and so I had no interest. The ubiquitous CD clock was always a favourite, and yet recently I saw them blasted mercilessly by the magnificent “Regretsy” site and I couldn’t risk my beloved discs ending up fodder for the jaded. Better to see them in a landfill first! With a heart wrung dry, and a trembling hand, I tossed them in a bag, and thence to the garbage bin, never to be seen again.

Well, fuckettydoo.

This was mere days ago. Damned if TONIGHT I didn’t come across the CUTEST idea for old CDs to be made into sweet little peppermint candy ornaments with the simple application of Sharpie brand permanent marker in what I will now dub “Regretsy Red”. Forgetting my rash toss of a few days ago, I dashed excitedly to the storage drawers in question to find…organised, neat, sterile rows of a craft supply I can not even now remember. Poop. Double poop. Much shaking of fists and beating of breast.

So as is usual for my little posts of something falling far short of wisdom, I leave you tonight with a lesson. Damn you, Regretsy. No, not that, for you brought us poultry feet and vulva jewelry. The lesson is this. Never, EVER throw anything away. Ever. As long as you live. Living in filth and squalor is preferable to living with regret…sy.

Jessica

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