Arm & Hammer Baking Soda Box Instructions Deliver a Subtle Message Regarding Who Can and Who Cannot Afford a Swimming Pool of Their Own
Yesterday I received a box of Arm & Hammer Baking Soda so large that it came emblazoned with instructions to purify swimming pool water. The small boxes merely instruct you to sprinkle baking soda on your grody bathroom tile. Why does Arm & Hammer hate the poor? Rich folks buy the large box of baking soda, poor folks buy the small box; rich folks have swimming pools, poor folks have mildewy tiles. Idiots. Maybe I have no swimming pool because I thought I had no foolproof way to keep the pool water pure. They ought to put the pool directions on the small box, so that those of us who are rich (though poolless) and who normally buy the small box (because the big box is ostentatious) would realize that we do indeed have a way of purifying pool water with massive amounts of baking soda.
The first thing I'm going to do when I get my new pool is drain it and let it gradually fill with brown leaves and Captain Morgan bottles and fast-food wrappers. Then some day I'll find a corpse in my trash pool and I'll call the cops and they'll say, "Thanks, lady, you did the right thing by calling us," and then I'll get engaged to the police commissioner and we'll plan a lovely September wedding to take place outdoors by the very trash pool that brought us together, but then he'll discover that I have no dowry so he'll leave me for Doreen McKracken from Staten Island. Yes, that Doreen McKracken!
The first thing I'm going to do when I get my new pool is drain it and let it gradually fill with brown leaves and Captain Morgan bottles and fast-food wrappers. Then some day I'll find a corpse in my trash pool and I'll call the cops and they'll say, "Thanks, lady, you did the right thing by calling us," and then I'll get engaged to the police commissioner and we'll plan a lovely September wedding to take place outdoors by the very trash pool that brought us together, but then he'll discover that I have no dowry so he'll leave me for Doreen McKracken from Staten Island. Yes, that Doreen McKracken!
8 Comments:
Well, I certainly hope that you will engage me to do the flowers for the wedding! I will be waiting for the call. Would you prefer hydrangeas or callas? Maybe you like black roses and pussy willows?
The bright side is that you have all this baking soda to throw at the wedding.
It is 50-50 whether to throw the small boxes or handsful from the large box. I suppose it's a matter of individual preference.
Hey, whatever happens, let it not reflect so badly on your dowryless self. After all, that Doreen is a real honey...
http://www.bbc.co.uk/leicester/content/image_galleries/leicester_pride_2004_gallery.shtml?7
(I'm assuming they're one and the same)
Bollocks! The link in the above comment didn't work and I can't be arsed to find out how to make it better. I'm sorry, I've ruined everything. *weeps*
That McKracken bitch is always stealing your suitors. Remember when she killed off Starvuvius? That poor bastard never saw the bronze statue of Ulysses S. Grant that killed him. Or, if he did see it, he wasn't smart enough to get out of the way -- in which case, he probably deserved to die.
Doreen came through to me fine, Mr. Shane. And, yes, "a real honey" describes her well.
Mr. Shane, fear not, the link worked perfectly well for me and you are right - "a real honey" would be the way to discribe that hussy.
The thing is, I've never even used up a whole small box before it turned into a solid cake, useful only for soda and vinegar volcanos. Maybe the only thing you CAN do with a large box is clean your swimming pool- or, as Hoss suggests, throw it at a wedding- the Runaway Bride's maybe.
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