Dear Diary …
I have something shocking to reveal about myself. Never in my life did I think I’d become a person of such excess and extravagance, but it is true and I need to accept it and confess it to you. I own a $27,000 trash can.
Crazy right? You probably think I’m making this up, but it is totally true. I never thought I’d get to a position of riches where I would own a $27,000 trash can. And even if I DID end up gettin’ that rich, I still never thought I’d be a person who would spend $27,000 on just a trash can.
But friends … it’s true.
Now … I should point out that this trash can wasn’t originally branded and sold as a trash can, it was initially referred to as something called “a car.”
I originally purchased it with the plans of using it for it’s intended goal … to be a car … but I see now after driving my children all around town for the past six months, this large metallic object on four wheels isn’t actually a car to them, rather a large moving receptacle that is available for all of their filth and garbage.
This car ain’t even that old and there’s just trash all over the place. And muddy footprints on the door and one of the seats has some kind of stickiness on it … almost like syrup. Who had syrup in the car? At no time did I serve pancakes in this automobile, so where did this syrup-like substance even come from???
And don’t even go in the trunk … because that’s actually a $27,000 gym locker filled with baseball equipment, wrestling shoes, gross socks and God knows what else. Actually … God probably doesn’t know what else, cuz he ain’t stickin’ his holy nose in that nasty funkbox to find out.
These monsters simply don’t care! And what gets me the most is they come in the car with a drink or a snack or something, and when they leave the car, they just leave the trash. They don’t even give it a second thought. Empty chip bag can actually be IN their hands and they’ll just toss it on the floor and walk out.
And whatever jerk invented those pouches on the back of the chair … Henry Ford or whoever … yeah I hate that guy. All he did was invent a hidey hole of rotting garbage that you’ll never be able to get fully clean since there’s no way to scoop out all the nastiness that collects in there.
I mean if you told me as a kid that I’d own a $27,000 trash can, I’d be all excited because I’d think I was loaded. Meanwhile I’m scrapin’ together coins just to buy a dozen eggs at the store because they’re about as absurdly priced as this $27,000 trash can!
Till next time Diary … I say … Goodbye.