Rarely I wake up in the morning without a jump start from licking a 9 volt battery, but even then I don’t spring to life with limitless pink-bunny energy. Like most loony baboons, I ‘doo’ what I have to do, but little else so I won’t unduly embarrass myself in front of the troop and my homeless alley-mates. Of course I brush, blow, & baste like all good zombies, but I should not be expected to be witty, scratch-free, or even understand ‘Ghoul-ean algebra’ until at least 15 minutes after sunrise.
So the last thing I have energy for in the first of the morning, is to fend off a thick gelatinous ring of gooey ‘Food Boogies’ from the sticky snout of my syrup ‘ba-ba’! Oh don’t act so uppity - yeah I said it and how many times must I warn you not to read my tripe while eating anyway? I can’t help it if your gag reflex has not yet been battle-hardened to the horrors of a seeping head-wound from Aunt Jemima’s nasty noz-noggin.
Yes, around here, we seem to have a growing epidemic of coagulated condiments in that handy-dandy ‘flexi-squeeze’ packaging. I mean who doesn’t relish the fun in popping a top on a ‘gunkified’ ketchup bottle or fondling a dilated and crowning upside-down squirter, with a crusty mustard-pustule tip of Grey Poupon? The only thing worse for me then hanging those scabby ‘goo-cocoons’ over my burgers n’ brats is having to clean and blow-free their snotty little spouts into a wet-nap-wipey without weeping woefully.
I don’t know when those ‘easy to knife’ cavernous jars with lids suddenly became so out of fashion? My ‘wide-mouth’ still seems to be working just fine and has remained relatively paste-less and tasteless, even after shoving salsa pablum in and out of it for a half century now. Oh sure the sinuses suffer and that spicy stuff can make my rosy nose-y unruly and occasionally ‘run away’ by my flagrant use of abrasive Puff-less off-brand Kleenix. But never fear I’m a mystified ‘drip’ with a nasal irrigation plan ‘cause my nose knows just what it needs – an easy-squeezy sinus-schnozzle!