Waste: Excess of material, useless by-products or damaged, unsaleable products; garbage; rubbish.
Perhaps my bowels are an apt metaphor for my life. I'd like them to work regularly and in a consistent, predictable fashion, never give me any problems, and produce a result that is neither too hard or too soft. Odorless would be lovely but I know I'm being greedy there. I would like to be, in fact, The Director of my bowels.
I'd certainly suggest that god install an on-off switch to operate the things, although technically it's really a single thing, making the phrase redundant and somewhat confusing - incorrect, actually. Anyway, when it's convenient for me I could simply push the button or flip the switch or toggle the lever or maybe even pull an old-fashioned rope. Voila! A bowel movement!
I've never grasped the concept of waste. If I was a god or gods putting together the human animal I'd just tweak the design so that it was so hyper-efficient that no waste was produced. Voila! No bothersome colonoscopy, no laxatives wreaking havoc on my touchy insides. I wouldn't have had to take like two years worth of Miralax (copyright protected) in a six hour period, leading of course to explosive diarrhea leading to post-colonoscopy constipation, requiring more laxative to get the whole system moving again, restarting the diarrhea process . . . well . . . you get the point and you probably wish that you didn't.
I feel like a mad scientist creating the Frankenstein monster - a Seaweed-enstein - or a TNT manufacturer fooling with the formula - too little explosive and I don't blow anything up and too much explosive and I blow everything up.
Captain Beyond: Dancing madly backward, Dancing on a sea of air.
Saturday, February 20, 2016
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