Things we take for granted: the Sink
Hey guys, it has been a while since I last wrote largely due to government instability induced laziness and frequent paternity tests. Now I am back however to prove once and for all that my unconditional genius has no boundaries and also that I am still alive, so my parents, employers and other concerned parties can sleep well tonight.
There are many things we take for granted in our lives, Mum’s cooking and police brutality to name a few, but one thing we almost don’t appreciate at all and yet can’t live without is the sink! That’s right.
It was always there for us: deep enough for our chubby baby bodies to be washed, yet too shallow for our grown up drunk selves to puke in. Too weak to crouch in when we play hide and seek or try to take an angry dump at our boss’s birthday party but yet strong enough to support our wrinkled claw-like fingers when we get old and lean over to pee inside. Lifesaving water gently splashes through or fills it up, just like strippers did to your sister on her bachelorette party. So important the Sink is, such great value it holds for us and yet we keep spitting in it and throwing our granddad’s dirty underwear in for him to see as if humiliation will somehow cure his Alzheimer’s. We get it dirty and then leave it until Mum comes over for Easter, puts on the gasmask and rolls up her sleeves. This needs to change!
I mean just imagine a life without it if you dare. Where would we keep our dirty dishes? In the toilet? And when we shave our balls, would we put the pubes in the fridge or plant them in the flower pots? The Sink is nothing less than the highest point of our civilization and we simply can’t keep ignorantly disrespecting it. Let’s not go back to the Stone Age and crouch in some cave to wash our hands in a spring just to be attacked by a mastodon allergic to sunlight.
I therefore encourage you all to take a minute and think about her Shiny Ceramic Highness before you go. Appreciate the exquisite functionality, feasibility and beauty. And when you go back home please be a little kinder and more considerate next time you deposite your bodily secretions.
Please come in next time for another installment of Things we take for granted when we are going to discuss the urn with your grandma’s ashes where your cat likes to take a piss every ones in a while.
There is one endless debate in comedy – what is more important: form or content. Coincidentally there is a similar debate among female fitness models and some racist anthropologists. What we can’t seem to understand but keep trying to (just like the Greeks with the words ‘borrow’ and ‘responsibility’) is whether the story should be the main focus or rather the way it is presented. And while any normal person, except for maybe Donald Trump’s hairstylist, would say the answer is balance. Well not me. I say experiment. Do just form like what I did above or the last time I was at the beach with a plastic bucket. And then try to go for story only if your life is interesting enough that is. If it’s not, you can always text me and we’ll figure something out.