Inventor buried in Pringles can

Note: One of the best things about my job is that I get paid to read about really interesting — albeit slightly crazy — stuff every day. This story I found on the wire is no exception.

The inventor of the Pringles chip can, Fredric Baur, was so in love with his greatest invention that he was buried in it.

Baur, a chemist from Cincinnati, was issued a patent in 1970 for his invention of the tub-shaped container. According to the story in the Cincinnati Enquirer, Baur invented frying oils and a freeze-dried ice cream, but nothing came close to his love of the Pringles’ can, so says his family. It was that love that inspired his family to honor his last wish and bury part of his cremains in the can after his May 4 death. He was 84.

It sounds kinda creepy, being buried in a Pringles can, but at the same time, I can’t imagine what it would be like to have such pride and conviction in a single accomplishment of my life. So, more power to him.

But, with that being said, it’s still really weird.

Now a wall is mocking me … what is the deal?

I recently moved into a new apartment, which actually allows you to paint. Given the option for the first time in my apartment-dwelling life, I felt obligated to take them up on it. Plus, I was just going to do one accent wall. How hard can that be? Silly me.

To play off my new furniture, I first painted the wall sage blue to really make my new cream-colored overstuffed chair really stand out. Well, it was too dark. It was almost as if the wall screamed at you when you walked in the door. “HEY, YOU! LOOK OVER HERE! I’M A BLUE WALL. I KNOW YOU SEE ME. DON’T TRY TO LOOK AWAY. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.”

The blue wasn’t working out, so I went back to Lowe’s to buy another color. This time — apprehensive of anything dark – I went for a light brown color, to complement rather than match the new sage blue couch. After two coats, you could barely tell I had painted the wall. Now, it whispers, “Excuse me please. If it isn’t too much trouble, you could strain your eyes to notice that I have a brown tint about me. I don’t mean to bother you, I apologize.”

That isn’t working either.

I’m going to Lowe’s AGAIN tomorrow to buy yet another can of paint. I’m buying the first can I see labeled Dark, But Unobtrusive Brown.

It’s one wall, people. This is ridiculous.

Am I a clown? Do I make you laugh?

OK, the universe is officially picking on me.

To the 12 people who read my blog about automation in the bathroom, you know how much I abhor it. Well, it seems the cosmos was reading as well. We were on our way home from vacation in Michigan this weekend when we stopped at a gas station somewhere along I-69. I should have known something was a askew by the fact the entire back wall was covered in the diamond plating, which by the way, was also used for ALL four walls of the unisex restroom. One of the most hideous things I’ve ever seen, but that’s never here nor there.

All the expected automated accoutrement was there, but the cause of this second rant about automation was the trash can. Yes, the trash can was automated. You waved your hand over the sensor and it slowly rose, waited 5 seconds and then slowly lowered. I would have thought it was cool had I not been irritated with the universe.

I think I’m done complaining about automated restrooms … for now.

Automation in public restrooms is the devil

It all started with the automatic toilet. That annoyed me. I can’t tell you how many times the stupid sensor decided I was done when in fact I wasn’t. That was bad enough.

But the Bathroom Powers That Be couldn’t leave well enough alone, could they? It’s gotten out of control. Automatic hand dryers. Automatic paper towel dispensers. Automatic soap dispensers. Automatic faucets. Where does the madness end?

I’m beyond tired of waving my hands around inanimate objects in public restrooms just hoping the sensor will take pity on me and give me what I want. Sometimes I think there are hidden cameras in the mirrors, and we’re all going to feel pretty stupid when they post the footage on YouTube.

 

Peer pressure made me do this

I admit it. I’m 30 and still give into the beast that is peer pressure. And you thought that only happened in high school. Silly rabbit.

In a desperate attempt to be one of the cool kids – most notably the likes of Sarah and Gretchen — I’ve started this silly little blog in which I’ll expound upon matters of the utmost importance. Or, most likely, it’ll be a self-centered rant about my life and craziness I encounter on a daily basis. Manning the night desk at a mid-sized newspaper in Indiana, the stupidity that is mankind is normally sprawled out in front of me every single day.

So, welcome. Make yourself at home.