By the standards of most, I am a simple kind of guy. I drink my coffee black, beer cold or warm, and if the dog's willing to eat it, then it wont kill me. It's my way of bringing a little peace to the world. Enough people take it personal that Jack's lawn isn't short enough, or Jill's car hasn't been washed since the mid 80s. The way I see it, could be the dirt that's holding her Gremlin together. Why get put out? It helps make my Pinto look like the babe magnet I know it is. Still, there are on occasion those day's when my Zen like state of denial gives way to the pressures of "Yuppiedumb".

Yuppiedumd was the advent of Ward. A one word means of defining an altered state of consciousness, brought on by excessive exposure to marketing tactics, leading to illogical adjustments in ones priorities. No, Ward was not a sociology professor. He was the diesel mechanic, and head cantankerous old fart at a trucking outfit I worked for. Standing all of 5' tall, what he lacked in height was more than made up for in ornery sized helpings of piss and vinegar. In many ways, Ward was my inspiration, and part-time mentor on my path to apathetic enlightenment, which may explain occasional lapses in my focus.

Last Friday turned out to be one of those lapses. Morning Coco Pebbles had given birth to a work free day sure to be an inspiration to couch potato's everywhere. It was all laid out. Kids were off doing kid stuff, Momma had "female" things to do, (don't know.. not sure I want to) and a brand new shipment of Netflix was calling my name. The only thing lacking was the snack attack hobby kit. My first mistake was not going with my gut instinct, and hitting the local Am Pm. Nooooo, I had to be clever boy.

Penetration of marketing ploy number 1. The insert from Fridays paper, which I had perused while atop the porcelain thrown of my castle, had given weight to the option of the supermarket, via two for one coupons on Pringles. Now it is a well known fact, outside an act of congress, or divine intervention, the average male will rarely set foot in a grocery store parking lot, let alone actually go inside the building. It is just such a violation of so many things male. Much like locker rooms are a violation to female sensitivities. But there is no denying the power of the Pringle. The free Pringle is simply beyond the abilities of any mere mortal man to resist. Thinking it would be a well rewarded sacrifice, off to the supermarket I went.

My timing could not

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