I'm living my best life, every day, and all my great stuff fits into other great stuff. It's just part of being a fulfilled person and taking each day to the max! You want to have everything sitting out separately on a table that doesn't even have smaller tables inside of it ... your loss, bro.
Time for a cig. Nah, I don't need a light from you ... I got a lighter in my iPhone case! You can't even handle a heating element that glows red-hot at 600 degrees right next to your tiny glass-and-steel pocket computer. You can't put a price on convenience. Time's the ultimate price. Time's what I'm saving with this. You can't get that back. It's swag sand through the hourglass.
Like my hollow nickels. You see this? SD card inside the nickel. I may have accidentally put four gigs of sensitive personal and financial documents into a pop machine, but the convenience of keeping that data inside a fake coin can't be beat! Is it five cents? Is it multiple billions of bytes? Is it a hundred JPEGs of diamonds and crystals sparkling eternally in the swag matrix? You'll never know.
I don't fuck with regular soap either, my man. You want to touch Irish Spring, you do that. I fucks with Money Soap, the only soap that has me getting money when I'm getting washed. Couple hundred washes and you pull a real bill out of that! You ever unroll a wet Washington when you getting Zested out like a basic scrub? No. Don't even answer. I know you don't.
Do I have a painting? Hell yeah, I have a painting, and inside the painting, I got a flat-screen, and it extends out over my bed. Maybe the weight of it all rips my drywall out and drops my flat-screen down onto my head. Maybe that's my last day, so I make sure every TV show I watch is OK to be my last one. I don't wanna be in the paper all "He was found watching Judge Judy." Nah. strictly Law & Order. Any Law, any Order. SVU, LA, TBJ, whatever. They find me watching Law & Order, they know the score.
You're probably thinking something like 'when this guy gets his grub on, I bet he puts a Hot Pocket inside Annie's Breakfast Burrito,' but you got me wrong there, too. I'm a gourmand for real, and my knives fit inside each other! I'm cutting, I'm cutting, I need a smaller knife, do I go back to the block? HELL nah. Boom. Another knife right inside. Smaller knife. Boom. All the way down to this little one. I make Pizza Hut Express look like Pizza Hut Slow, son.
Do I have to go on? I want a candle, I don't hit White Barn, Yankee, none of that. Hole in a pear. Candle in the hole. Fire in the hole. I got that fruit swag. You better tell somebody.
Are you concerned that you may be a character trapped in a Tom Waits song? Be smart and learn the warning signs before it's too late. Also, it's too late. It has always been too late.
I'm haunted by a recurring vision of a skeleton flipping me off. To avoid seeing this terrifying image in bumper sticker form, I pay someone with a blank bumper to drive in front of me at all times.
Drew Fairweather goes through hundreds of Things for Sale every month, and he saves the worst of the Worst for Something Awful readers!