Oh The Douchebaggery

I finally found a philosophy I can get down with.

I am newly obsessed with the show, Taboo, on The National Geographic Channel.
And by newly, I mean since 5 a.m.

Damn this arctic tundra we live in! I was arrested from sleep no less than four times last night.
I miss you, slumber...You were so kind!

So I am tooling around on my computer because it is within arm's reach and I am too motherfunkin' cold to leave the warm nest of my bed.

I am willing my stomach to shut up because it wants cereal and I can't bring myself to put on pants just yet and make the 10 foot trek to my kitchen.
Instead I banish my culinary yearnings (albeit meager, because my cabinets hold mainly spices and dried goods---livin' la vita dolce here, my friends) in favor of a few pre-dusk viewings of Taboo.
I won't insult your intelligence by going into detail about the shows content.

The name speaks for itself.

I got caught up in a few episodes about nudist colonies.
There was some full-frontal attack on my senses.

Why are nudists always so damn un-sexy?

It's completely counter-intuitive...Why you wanna drop your drawers when you own a twelve pack?

Beats me!

I think the problem is that National was covering (to loosely coin a phrase) American nudists.
I swear they don't look so rotund and furry in the south of Cannes.

Whatever.

My most favorite episode thus far covers a wee group called Freegans.

These are people who subsist on the waste of others.

Hello! That's me!

Those who live in or around the east-side know there is an abundance of pure gold in the form of trash.
I have furnished my apartment with cast-offs.

And those of you who know me, know that there is a certain dumpster residing in the 02906 that is shangri-la for unwanted goods.

Finally, a name for me.

I am a freegan!

Only snag I can foresee is food appropriation.

I am not at all jiggy with the idea of eating vegetables from a dumpster.
I am not interested in harshing your mellow if you happen to be alright with said excavations.

Hell, one of my best friends hitched her way from North Carolina all the way to Big Sur with zero cash in pocket and a will to thrive subsidized only by eating trash remains.

I have worked at enough bakeries to see that there is a huge contingent for this activity.

But I draw the line at old food.

Unless I spent money on it.
Then I am in it to win it.

I say, psshah! to bacterium!
What's a little tummy-ache compared to the act of getting a meal for free?