Pairing those two does not produce a pleasant surprise like accidentally mixing chocolate with peanut butter.
I love how the woman in that commercial is eating peanut butter by the spoonful while seeing a movie alone. I reserve that level of self-loathsome indulgence for the comfort of my own home or while hiding in the bathroom at work, thank you very much.
Regarding the toilet paper thing, maybe I'm falling prey to an adult manifestation of that volume/perception cognitive test that they (aka "the man") administer to show how stupid kids are when compared to adults, but I feel better about using only four squares of Charmin compared to about 20 squares of the environmentally friendly. What the children in that video fail to observe is that the juice was probably not Sharkleberry Finn koolaid. Tastes too much like blue!
To offset my need for corproreal luxury, I vow to do the following starting tomorrow:
- Stop burning gasoline-soaked plastic bags instead of wood in the backyard bonfire
- Walk...to the car instead of using my diesel-powered jet-pack to get from the front door to my whip
- Stop wasting energy by cleaning my house with the electric vacuum. I will hire someone to do that for me. That way, I'm just wasting money.
- Stop burning money as fuel
The bag I swear by is made by a company called "Kiva". I stumbled upon this bag at SEATAC airport in Seattle and I've been a fan ever since. About a year before buying the Kiva bag, I had been using two other types of packable bags that attached to your keyring. Both did the trick, but had some downsides.
The first bag worked well, but as noted earlier, it had a few downsides. First, the tote bag and the little bag you stuff it into were not attached to one another, which left me vulnerable to the environment-destroying character flaw I was trying to overcome - forgetfulness. If I didn't stuff the tote back into the key chain sack as soon as my newly purchased goods exited the bag, I would either forget where I put the tote bag or I would leave the house without the tote bag because there was no visual trigger that it was missing - the little sack would still be clipped to my keys. This visual check is especially important if you carry a purse full of stuff and you only want to look with your eyes, not with your hands (like they tell the boys in high-school gym class).
Some would say this problem was caused by my forgetfulness, but I blame it on the manufacturer (and the rain). Second, the key chain clip was fastened to the sack by a narrow loop of fabric. The key chain clip and the bag would ultimately rotate in opposite directions and weaken the integrity of the fabric loop to the point that it would break. Then I was left with a functional tote bag with a non-functional stuff sack, which in turn becomes garbage, because what do you need a tiny bag with a snap on it for? Garbage avoidance is what this whole thing is about, so ultimately, it was creating unnecessary garbage. I threw that bag out the window on the freeway once I found the ChicoBag.
After doing the grocery shuffle one too many times, I decided to look for a bag with longer straps.
The ChicoBag's second downfall was the stuff sack. It's sewn to the inside of the bag (no chance of the tote and the stuff sack separating - woot!) and it has a drawstring cord with one of those spring-loaded baubles on the end (the kind you find on your ski jacket or tent bag). The problem was the cord. You had to be really conscious of making sure that the cord and bauble had not fallen into the stuff sack (like it had a propensity to do) before you started stuffing. Otherwise, the closing mechanism for the bag would be rendered useless and your tote bag would spill out everywhere like a sea cucumber after a hearty day of scavenging. Although the ChicoBag did not make the cut in the end, the small carabiner attached to it makes a great key chain.
Finally - the Kiva. It's all I ever wanted. Long straps, high capacity, attached bag with a zipper closure that turns into a little pocket when it's in bag form, belt loop. I love it.
Yes, schoolyard bully - I love it so much that I would marry it. Now go back to teasing the kids that will actually be influenced by your chiding. You're wasting valuable internalized-hatred time on me.
I grow weary from this post. Stay tuned for my over-inflated explanation of my water bottle.