Wednesday, May 18, 2011

Exhaust fumes are something that I breathe a lot of, and the shit is beginning to get on my nervous system

Exhaust fumes, whether administered at home or on the job, are something I am pretty sure I breathe a lot of. And while it's true that I have never been a finicky breather, I must nevertheless say that the shit is really beginning to get on my nervous system.

The main way that exhaust fumes really started getting on my nervous system was by a) the industrial revolution and b) being born into the same atmosphere 200 years later. Had I been born 200 years earlier, I would be telling you that syphilis is something that I've contracted a lot of. But that would make me even older than Nietzsche -- the original old school playa, yo.

If it weren't for the fact that exhaust fumes, and all the shit that is in them, are really beginning to get on my nervous system, I probably wouldn't care very much -- but the regrettable likelihood is that those fuckers most assuredly are. It doesn't help that the shit is totally toxic to 100% of aerobic organisms. I prefer to think of myself as a more sedentary-type of organism, but as luck would have it this is not the sense in which Yahoo! Answers defines their terms.

Of course, I can understand why the setting of fire to buried, dead organisms as a means of motive power might appeal to whatever jerkoff enjoys a monopoly on exhuming dead organisms. I understand the entrepreneurial spirit -- I really do. However, the last time I checked, modern innovation really hadn't done anything to address my principal concern, which has to do with exhaust fumes, how much I am breathing them, and how that shit is beginning to get on my goddamn nervous system.

Maybe I am biased by the knowledge that, whereas the Nazis called them "death trucks," the contemporary consumer sees in the same distribution model "a great time to put on The Little Mermaid." It could be that moving things from one end of the planet to the other, when they could instead be moved from one side of town to another -- all while riding the fleeting, viscous corpse of our ancestors -- makes heaps of good sense. But I just can't help but believe that I am breathing in a lot of the detritus, and that, moreover, the shit is beginning to get on my nervous system.


Randal Graves said...

Working in the downtown area of a mid-sized burg, I try to turn the inevitable inhalation into a game, picking out the type and/or age of a vehicle by the unique stench it spews forth.

JRB said...

Randal Graves:

It's not the heat, it's the stupidity.

Ethan said...

Just yesterday I muttered "Maybe I don't want to breathe your exhaust" angrily to myself.

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