Seven Red

This will be the first in the series “Kids These Days!,” in which Seven Red rants and raves about the things the kids do these days, and general problems of raising kids, well, these days. The rhetorical form is simple, and can be summarized as follows: What the fuck is this shit, now? The primary sense will be that these kids do something that we didn’t do back when we were kids, all those ages ago in the 1970′s and 80′s. With the series thus explained, I’ll proceed with the first installment, Tiny Bubbles.

So, can somebody explain to me why I have giant fucking plastic containers of bubble producing fluid all over my goddamn living space? These containers come with an implement, apparently known as a “wand,” which you dip into the bubble fluid, then blow on to produce some stream of bubbles in the air. Yes, you know what I’m talking about because we had bubble-producing shit of the same sort when we were kids. Here’s the difference: it came in a tiny little plastic bottle that held maybe 4 ounces of said fluid, and which never, ever turned up in your house after its use. The shit would appear when you were out somewhere, it would run out, and that would be the end of the effin’ bubbles. Now they come in plastic containers that could probably be used to clean up the BP oil spill. One of these has three wands and notes, I think ironically, “Three Kids Can Play!” Play? Three kids can live in that fucking container. It’s an aquarium. And because no normal kid could run through bubble fluid equivalent to a full tank of fuel for a fucking aircraft carrier in one day, these goddamn giant florescent plastic bubble fluid containers end up sitting around here and there in the house, plastic all back-alley-of-a-laundromat-oil-soap-slicky from whatever noxious shit they use to make this crap.

Why, people?

In addition to my many other Annoying Writing Quirks, I always find myself starting off these posts with “So,…,” as if we’ve been having a conversation. But the conversation’s been sparse of late, I’ll admit. It was the summer, and I’ve been – despite that – pretty busy, but also feeling pretty drained. This combination yielded this result: I slogged through all the work I had to do, and really couldn’t bring myself to get to the stuff I want to do. One of which, of course, is updating all my fine reader. Ahem, readers. Also, our digital camera broke, so both kidpics and Graffiti Fridays became undoable. Ah well. In any case, now that the school year at Unnamed Employer Institution is kicking up again, I’ve decided that I will commit to frequent updates here, as it keeps me sane and let’s me spout off without spouting off on stuff that I shouldn’t be spouting off on, identifiably speaking. Pure semi-ano0nymous outlet, in other words. Part of that means that there will probably be a lot of posts like this, in which I essentially say nothing of interest, but simply post to post. Eh, it can’t all be wedding cake. Expect the Evil of Banality series to multiply substantially.   I do like the word “uninteresting,” though. In my line of work, I think it may be the supreme insult, even worse than saying something’s dumb. Something can be smart, but uninteresting, and that’s really the killer. I’m reclaiming uninteresting!