SHOPPING FOR THE WEIRD CRAP

When I came home my apartment mate was at her computer cruising in the shampoo aisle of the internet. And appalled at some of the strange things they're selling to prosperous white women (at two to twenty bucks an ounce). It's like visiting the "real housewives" of some place ghastly with no normal people, nothing but wealthy slags.
Chemistry experiments in precious little bottles.
Ultra nourishing cleansing and spiritual.

I think she was entertained by the goofiness of self-indulgent suburbanites. As am I, because that describes at least some of the people I deal with in Marin.
Which is the acme and apogee of suburbia.

It's watery, wheat balanced, nurturing, and smells like old lady.

Who knew that your wheat had to be balanced?

Is this vegan and gluten-free?

It's a shampoo!


Joan Crawford used mayonnaise as a shampoo and facial; it made her hair soft and glossy, and revitialized her skin. As well as probably making her smell like a tuna salad sandwich.
They ought to put that in a bottle.


And yet, for some strange reason, women think that when men go anal over their pipes or cigars, something is wrong with them. Browsing among the cheroots, or picking a new pipe, is a shopping activity that is dreary and a complete waste of time, when you could be getting a professional shampoo. Larch tree sap and Iceland moss. Plus cypress. Certified organic.

Iceland moss? Listen, ma'am, Iceland is where Hákarl comes from, a rare delicacy that ranks right up there with surströmming and lutefisk. All of which are also good for your hair.

Well, okay, I'll admit that obsessing over tools and football games IS berserk, as are a lot of things that men do, but spending ten dollars an ounce on something that you'll just rinse out is insane. As is fifty dollars on a Nicaraguan cigar. But a fine briar at three hundred does make sense -- you'll look at it a few years from now and say to yourself "gee this is a fine smoker, glad I bought it" while considering that with decent care that puppy will still be a splendid thing two or three decades hence -- and if you think about it, that dollar amount divided by two decades of enjoyment is the equivalent in price of a glass of good wine once a year.


Certainly more effective, bang for the buck, than the ridiculous shampoo. Or your kid going to college and getting a degree in Icelandic literature. The expense of which will put him in debt until he's ready for retirement. Unless he invents a shampoo made from Hákarl and Icelandic moss that can be sold to desperately superficial middle-aged white women who live in the suburbs who have too much self-consideration, free time, and cash.
If he's successful he'll have money to burn.
Fifty dollar Nicaraguan stogies.
And lots of mayonnaise.


"This Hákarl mayonnaise is the finest money can buy, it is untouched by virgin hands, spiritually pure. Scrub yourself with it, or serve it at parties and impress your guests."


On the other hand, this lovely Peterson pipe cost the same, will make you happy for many hours, year in year out, won't add a gloss to your hair, and only you and another pipesmoker will be able to appreciate it's beauty. Your family will think it a complete waste of money, and will pester you for more of that Hákarl.

Choose wisely.




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