Land of the Free, Home of the Breakfast Cereal Aisle

This morning, I drank hot coffee through a bendy straw. I succumbed to such ridiculous behavior because I am currently employing the teeth-whitening system of Crest Premium Plus strips. Not only are they actually making my teeth somewhat whiter, but they are making them sensitive. Hence, the straw decreases the discoloring effect the caffeine has on my choppers, and also sends the hot liquid straight to my tongue, so that it can experience roughly the same level of discomfort that my teeth already feel. A balanced mouth is a happy mouth, eh?

That brings me to my first point. Why are the strips Premium Plus? I mean, is this a marketing campaign for the egomaniac who thinks him- or herself just a bit too good for the plain old Premium strips, not to mention scoffing at the Classic strips? May it never be that my teeth have only the whiteness of the plebes!

Greg bought some AKC brand dog treats this weekend. They are Super Premium All Natural Gourmet Dog Biscuits. If they can help train his dogs to actually repeat that phrase 5 times fast, they're worth it. But my point is, dogs eat their own vomit. I have even seen a dog I know (who shall remain nameless) find what she must have thought to be 'hidden treasures' in my own cat's litter box. I am not kidding. Why do these creatures need gourmet anything?

My cat, on the other hand, totally deserves and fully appreciates her Fancy Feast Elegant Medleys white meat chicken and whipped egg souffle with garden greens. This is mainly because it came free in the 20-pound container of litter that I bought last week.

We were in a Cingular store only days ago, where Greg was trying to figure out what phone to buy. The options are endless; that is why I have spent no less than two hours in the past two weeks sitting in the car, in the parking lot, waiting while he shops. A phone can now take photos, play music, calculate your restaurant tip, check your email, transfer your documents, and store movies for you to watch, all with the press of a button on the display screen using an infinitesimally small stylus, which handily fits in a compartment on the back of the phone. The problem is, if you have a manual transmission instead of a chauffeur, you are unable to utilize any of these functions, much less access the 'phone' feature of the phone. That's why Greg is on a first-name basis with the sales staff. My phone, I'm proud to say, is just a phone. It does not flip, click, store, show, check, or anything except act as a person-to-person speaking device.

This is America, I guess. We don't want to have a credit card; we want to have the executive platinum all-access 0% points and cash rewards card. We want to be able to buy a street legal 1183 hp car that goes 286 miles per hour, seemingly oblivious to the fact that the Autobahn is not within driving distance (though if it were, it would only be an 18.5 hour trip). We want to order coffee drinks that have so many adjectives preceding their names that one must practice at home before attempting to place an order in the coffee shop.

I pontificate; forgive me. All the hot air rushing out of my mouth is irritating my teeth.