Folding is pointless (not the mass computing kind of folding)

Reasons to fold laundry:

1. Ease of transportation.  
   
2. Perhaps that folding makes clothes fit easier/more efficiently into a dresser.
   
3. Maybe clothes are easier to organize when folded into stacks, which works well with dressers.
   

Reasons I hate those reasons:

1. My crumpled up clothes fit nicely into a hamper, which, being a container, is also easily transportable
   
2. An article of clothing has the same mass regardless of whether it's folded or not.  So folding doesn't save space.
   
3. Dressers are the problem here, not the solution

Therefore I renounce the rediculous activity of folding laundry.  Anyone care to woodshop me a dresser that's got 6 drawers and is 5 feet deep?  

Update: OK socks may be the ONLY exception.

Update: Jeans appear to be an exception too... I feel like I'm on a slippery slope here...

Update: Son of a bitch.  Add t-shirts.

Update: OK fine, folding is worth it.  The only escapee is boxer-briefs.  Folding still sucks though.  See ladies and gents, the lesson here is that a "brilliant" "passionate" idea such as 'folding isn't necessary' turns out to be "idiotic" and "you fucking moron."  Erego, just cause you think you crapped gold doesn't mean you shouldn't turn around and look for signs of shit.

I'm not here to learn

My blogger dashboard suggests to me that the noteworthy blogs out there in the world generally are informative in nature, apparently ready to benefit a large audience with a vague story-like impression of knowledge so the audience might be able to skip off to the water cooler and spread little tidbits of learning amongst colleagues.  Take "The Lettered Cottage" for instance, or "Things to Look At."  Or "Craft Synergy."  If I were to believe these are the true noteworthy blogs, then I suppose mine doesn't stand a chance - if the blogosphere is high school, then my blog is under the bleachers smoking weed while the cheerleaders rally the stands.  

There are things I'd like to learn.  But when it comes to blogs, my cup of herbal tea is witty writing (whether or not mine actually is, I don't care).  Give me a quick, dirty, well-written story about anything and I'll quietly thank you from my end of the dsl.  Try to draw me in with a story about your latest knitted kitten sweater, and I'll kindly be on my way to hunting grounds with bitchier prey.

WJ's Christmas List of Basic Human Rights

• The right to look hot as you see fit
• The right to be a bitch with a good heart
• The right to be a boring nice person
• The right to be an occasional gigantic moron
• The right to bring it back to smart
• The right to shuffle through as many sides to your personality as you fucking please
• The right to take advantage of those who take advantage
• The right to be taken advantage of
• The right to say fuck you to social norms while still happily playing with those who abide by them
• The right to use your life and the world to explore every corner of yourself
• The right to be a douche bag who gets inspired every now and then

I'm sure some less palatable actions could be justified by the above, but I'm going to invoke my right to not give a shit about how people interpret my words. Did I not put that on the list?? Wouldn't be the first time words were bended for twisted justification, speaking of which happy belated miracle child's birthday.

I have come face to face with the latin-american, male, 20's, black haired Bea Arthur.  And it. is. FIERCE.  

So's your face, Madrd

Interview with the Spanpire, Madrid

Isn't the title clever? What does clever mean again? Whatever, it's fun and I like it.

Today, in Madrid, I interviewed a potential candidate for a job, and empathetically watched the poor feller sweat balls because he clearly thought that the interview would be in Spanish. I could tell that's what he thought because he more or less said so. I can only imagine walking into an interview and finding out it would be in Spanish - I am confident I'd bow akwardly, offer a handshake, stutter an "hasta luego!", and run to the bathroom to calm my seething sweat glands.

As far as job interviews are concerned, I do believe I just became a life lesson for that guy. Or at least something to think about/clarify next time he heads into an interview. Or at least a fun story to tell his friends. Or at least a passing thought on his way out the door. Or at least...

Drugs, NL

In looking for reviews of Amsterdam coffee shops, I came across the following comment on a place called "The Magic Mushroom Gallery."  It gets interesting toward the end:

" Csenorchurls from USA. Sent 27 May 2007.
I was visiting a good friend lately and we were reminiscing about our visit to Amsterdam in Jan 06 and looking at your site when she chided me for not mentioning one of our stops and since she is one of my best friends on this planet I promised to fix my error. We stayed on a houseboat, got completely lost and ended up wandering into the Magic Mushroom Gallery for directions, they not only gave us directions on how to get back to our houseboat but they also sold us some killer shrooms. Her girlfriend had never tried shrooms before, a fact we made the clerk aware of and he steered us towards some gentle ones, we ended up giggling all night watching old Tom and Jerry cartoons (the tape was in the VCR provided by the houseboat) and at one point in the stoned evening she informed us that she had gone to the bathroom and 'pooped butterflies' which of course resulted in more giggles. My mistake is now fixed, two thumbs up for Magic Mushroom Gallery!"