It is Toast
A summer cold is a different kind of animal.
I’ve not had a cold — a real cold — for probably a decade or so. In the plandemic world that is the State of California, wherein I live, I am keeping a very low profile. We would not want the health nazis to attempt to track and trace me for coughing up mucous.
The toaster has become a major tool in the fight against many things. A summer cold is one of them. Our toaster has bit the dust. Actually, it creates the dust — bread dust. The thing sucks the air and moisture content out of the slice of bread, and we are left with a large Melba Toast to try to choke down the sore throat. Furthermore, one half of the slice of light wheat bread is burnt; the other half is barely brown.
Dear Husband announced to me this morning that We need a new toaster. I’d already made that conclusion about six months ago, but the dear Scots in my dear spouse refused to contemplate a new appliance whilst the old one still showed signs of life. I was content with tossing it in the garbage simply because it was not Made in The USA.
I offered to search online for the particulars of this request/demand/urgency/emergency/customer imperative:
Toaster Not Made in China.
This digital search began with entering into the non-G engine those very patriotic words.
The list of variations upon this dignified consumer demand is lengthy. Very lengthy.
The most comical of all is the desperate plea: ARE THERE ANY TOASTERS NOT MADE IN CHINA????
I selected The Best Toasters Not Made in China.
The persons who write up these Best of Lists are ridiculously self-absorbed, and stupidly wordy. They’re future political candidates for the Do-Nothing Party.
I do not care about what it was like when you were a child (in say, the year 2000), and what it was like when your Mom did this or that, and you would think such-and-such.
After 3 screen-loads of bloviation about Self, I got to the names of the 4 Toasters not Made in That Hellhole.
Is there such as thing as being too bottom-line?
Is it too much to ask the Lister to provide consumer content within the first few electronic paragraphs?
Is the Lister such a lonely creature that she must use whatever function this pathetic job requires as an excuse to present her Life Story?
Fakebook and Titter must be in the dumpster, and the narcissists online are flocking to post these preposterous Consumer Lists as clickbait. Ordinarily, I avoid the List-bait like the plague (aka a cold virus), but, today, I felt very courageous and energetic, after a good night’s sleep of 11 hours.
And I wanted one slice of dry toast with my cheese omelette. That brunch request created the one slice of desert-dry fused dust, which then prompted the command decision by Dear Husband to Buy The New Toaster.
The top choice was the one that I selected. Dear Husband then followed my lead and purchased the Candy Apple Red, 2-slicer of a contraption Made in England. Only 11 left in stock. Order soon.
When (IF) the box arrives, we shall, of course, scrutinize the labels as if atomic waste is about to enter the domicile. I expect that by that day (if the merchandise does, in fact, even exist to leave the Warehouse), I shall be over the summer cold that has dragged on for 2 weeks, a duration that is quite normal for the parasitic life of a cold virus.
The parasitic life of The Clickbait Poster is, I daresay, more insidious.
I’m heading into the final stretch of clearing the palate of noxious dead white blood cells. And I’ve decided that I can finish clearing 4 books off of my reading desk in no time at all. I do not make reading lists; I make things happen — I read the books!
There is no such thing as being too bottom line; but there is the horrendous condition of not having a bottom line at all!